


I'll Be With You

by frankenkylee



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:12:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 43,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankenkylee/pseuds/frankenkylee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was all alone - abandoned, scared, unsure, thrown into an unfamiliar place; and I knew I didn't belong there. And I had a strong feeling that he didn't, either. Although I have to say, finding true love in a mental institution isn't the craziest thing that's happened to me. Who knew, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Make Yourself Comfortable

The cuffs hurt. They dug into me, pinching and pulling on the tender skin around my wrists; and the cold metal touching my hot flesh made the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. My eyes, tired from fighting, from screaming, crying, straining to see through the flashing red white and blue lights that invaded my humble home last night; they squinted at the brutal sun rays beating down on me as though I had a spotlight on a stage, and the police officers pulled me roughly by the collar of my pale yellow dress. I stumbled, the shackles around my ankles were tight; I could barely take a step without feeling them painfully jerk my legs together. I felt like an animal – some sort of dog, and one that they had yet to tame; the men were rough, merciless with their direction, and unforgiving.

My heart pumped a slow, broken beat and filled my veins with hot blood, and at the same time as I physically felt it beating, I felt as though it had stopped; cutting off my breathing and turning my blood to ice. It was a hot August day, and I still shivered. 

Never in my entire life had I imagined I would end up here. My whole life, I was so well structured – I had all A's throughout school, I did all my chores, I never stayed out late. Always sober, always making good decisions. And now, here I am, my limbs shackled together, police officers surrounding me, being led up the front steps to Briarcliff Manor.

I didn't understand. I didn't want to understand. Everything I had, everything I loved – it was all gone. All of my trust, my faith, my values and morals, my entire life. I created my own destiny, and I worked so hard at it; I was in complete control of my life, and I was finally happy. Although my childhood was a bit rough, my hard-working father and my sick mother had given me a chance at such a beautiful life. When I was a young girl, we never had much money. My poor father struggled to keep up with our expenses; and between me, my 3 sisters, and my mother's hospital bills, we barely had enough food to put on the table once a week. Some days were harder than others; but I always told myself it would get better. I got frustrated sometimes, always feeling pressured; my parents, they loved me, and they pushed me. They knew exactly what I was capable of, and they knew my sisters weren't as driven. I turned out to be the only one out of my family to graduate. Eventually I took up a job offer at a local diner, performing on Saturday nights; singing, dancing, feeling the rhythm of music flow right through me, and I felt as though I had the world at my fingertips. One night, after one of my shows, I had fallen deeply in love with a handsome boy named Johnny, and we got married. I was only 23, but my husband and I started our new lives together; and had a beautiful baby boy.

All of it – my success, my job, my dedication, my sisters, my husband, and my sweet, sweet baby – all of it was taken from me in a matter of 24 short hours.

The cool, damp air hit my face with a harsh blast as the guards opened the doors to Briarcliff, and I held my breath for a moment before inhaling deeply through my nose. It smelled somewhat of a hospital – that sickly, yet sterile disinfectant smell that makes your stomach turn. It was dark, the walls black, with an enormous spiral staircase ascending about 4 floors. The sounds of the patients scared me; the screams, moans, and cries, it sounded like I had just walked into a haunted house.

The guards turned my body, abruptly, and had me face the desk residing to the left of the entrance doors. The man sitting at the desk looked miserable; he was gray, straight-faced and uninterested; but I guess when you work at a mental ward, you're not really that enthusiastic.

He looked up at me, or more so through me, and clicked his pen. “Name?”

I waited a moment before answering, as I couldn't quite find my voice just yet. But apparently, I didn't have to. “Audrey Davis,” the guard on my left stated loudly, and it made me jump. I glanced at the man, and he returned my gesture; yet his glance was sharper, angrier. I brought my focus back to the gray man at the desk, who proceeded to scribble something down on a file, presumably my name. He looked up after a moment or two and made eye contact with me.

“Get her to the showers. Send her up to Sister Jude once you're finished with her.”

And without missing a beat, the guards violently pulled me back toward a dark hall. My chains rattled viciously, angrily, as they dragged my feet faster than I could move them; and I held my breath again, closing my eyes, refusing to fight against the strong men. As they threw me into the hydrotherapy room, pushing me up against the metal pipes perpendicular to the barred window, they stripped me of my clothes, released me of my shackles, and hosed me down. I felt vulnerable, embarrassed, as the two men watched me stand there naked. They aimed a device at me, pulling the lever; and water came shooting wildly out of the hose, stinging my skin as it hit me. The force was so painful, almost unbearable on my skin. It felt like it was ripping straight off of my bones. I coughed wildly as they brought the heavy stream of water to my face, feeling it washing into my nose and mouth. I wasn't even sure if that sort of pressure washer was supposed to be used on humans. Maybe cars, or some sort of machinery; or maybe I was just sensitive. But clearly, in this place, being treated like a human wasn't a big part of anyone's day.

Once they tossed some powder onto me and threw me into what seemed like a hospital gown, I was shackled up again, violently taken back out into the lobby, and carried up the spiral staircase. I didn't really understand why the guards were being so rough with me. I never once fought against them. Hell, I never even spoke a word aloud; I was way too terrified. I guess they were just used to being stern and violent. Still, I'm 5 feet tall, they really didn't have to hold me down as if I were a threat.

My heart kept pumping the same ice cold blood through my system, and it chilled me with every step we took. I didn't belong here, and I knew it. Once we reached the top, a young, feeble nun stood in front of one of the many doors, with her hands clasped behind her back. The guards approached her, gripping me tightly, and set me down on my feet forcefully in front of the gentle-looking woman. She smiled, nodded; and without verbal direction, the guards took off my cuffs and shackles. I rubbed my sore wrists, feeling the slight indents in my skin from their tightness. I looked back up at the nun, who waved a hand at the guards, signaling their departure; they nodded, obeying her, and turned around to march simultaneously back down the high flight of stairs. I watched them go for a moment, eyeing them, before I brought my attention to the woman of God standing in front of me. She smiled nervously, seeming a little intimidated, and she carefully layed a hand upon my shoulder.

“Sister Jude will see you now.”

She gave me a gentle push in front of her and guided me through the heavy door, pushing it open with her other hand, and I walked in; it looked like an office, with a dark-stained desk and many files behind it. Sitting in the chair was another nun – She was much older, calloused, not a single hint of empathy gracing her slightly wrinkled face. Her dark eyes shot through me, and she smiled; not genuinely, but facetiously.

“Ah. Thank you, Sister Mary Eunice,” she said, her low voice echoing through the room. Her eyes darted from my face to the woman next to me. “But how many times do I have to tell you, Sister?”

I looked at the nervous nun, and she widened her eyes. “Oh, oh goodness. I didn't knock,” her voice trembled momentarily, and Sister Jude continued to stare at her. She hung her head in shame. “Yes, of course, Sister Jude. I-I'm sorry, I'll-”

“Don't be sorry, just start doing it. Now, go on.”

The blonde woman nodded quickly before hastily slipping out of the door, shutting it behind her with a thud. I turned my head, watching her go as well; but before I could actually focus on her, Sister Jude slammed the drawer in her desk, startling me and bringing my attention back without effort. She looked at me for a moment, with that same fake smile, and gestured toward the uncomfortable-looking chairs in front of her. “Have a seat.”

I obeyed immediately; straight-faced and nervous, I walked into the room and sat. The blood rushed up to my head, I felt like I could faint. Sister Jude continued to stare me down, her lips curled in a grin, and she stood up from her chair; heels clicking against the hard floor, she rounded the corner of her deck and sat right on the top. “You must be Audrey Davis,” she stated, crossing her legs. She looked me up and down, studying me, and I felt self-conscious. She let out a chuckle and shook her head as she brought her stare back up to my wide eyes. “My, my. Who knew a young woman so sweet and delicate could pull off such a horrendous tragedy, huh?”

She never broke her belittling stare, and I never broke mine. My heart dropped into my stomach and I got nauseous. She had no clue. She really didn't. Sister Jude raised her eyebrows at me, licking her lips. “I must say, for someone with your magnitude of iniquity, you sure seem quiet.”

I just stared at her, unflinching, unnerving; yet, I was more terrified than I have ever been. Other than last night, of course. The harsh woman continued looking down at me; her eyes were lasers shooting through my skull. She wasn't exactly angered, but she seemed as though she was disgusted, and waiting for me to speak. So, I took a deep breath, and I did.

“I didn't do it.”

Sister Jude let out a hearty laugh, waving her hand through the air. “Oh, of course you didn't,” she chuckled sarcastically. My icy blood turned hot, and I felt myself boil. My face became red, fuming; and I continued to stare at her. She had not a single clue as to what happened, no matter how much she thought she did. She stopped laughing and sighed before bringing her hand back down into her lap. “Oh, but never mind that. You're here for correction, are you not? We'll make you as right as rain.”

I knitted my eyebrows together in curiosity. I wet my dry lips and bit the inside of my cheek for a moment, in thought. “And then I'll be released?”

Sister Jude laughed again. “My child,” she sighed, and she paused. Her head shook as she stood from her desk, stepping over to where I sat, and she slowly tapped my chest with a bony index finger. “...Make yourself comfortable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Briarcliff, everyone >:)  
> This is my first chapter story. Sorry there isn't any Kit action goin on here, but trust me, there will be plenty of that to go around, I can assure you.  
> I'll try to update a few times a week, as much as I can. I never have anything to do, so I'm sure I won't leave you hanging for too long. Thanks for reading, I would love to see some reviews. Enjoy!


	2. Dominique

_Dominique, nique, nique, s'en allait tout simplement,_   
_Routier, pauvre et chantant_   
_En tous chemins, en tous lieux,_   
_Il ne parle que du bon dieu,_   
_Il ne parle que du bon dieu._

I sat in the Common Room, listening to that wretched song play _over_ and _over_ again, and I felt like I was going to punch a wall. Actually, I think that it only looped twice, and I already felt like it had been playing for hours. I wanted so badly to turn it off, but Sister Mary Eunice gave me the lowdown as she walked me down; apparently, nobody touches the record player, and as long as the Common Room is open, the song plays on loop. If I'm not insane already, I will be soon... That's for sure.

_Dominique, nique, nique, s'en allait tout simplement,_   
_Routier, pauvre et chantant_   
_En tous chemins, en tous lieux,_   
_Il ne parle que du bon dieu,_   
_Il ne parle que du bon dieu._

Christ, I could barely handle it. I didn't even know what it meant! It was all in French. I looked up from twiddling my thumbs and I studied the people around me; none of them seemed to be bothered by the song. In fact, most of them seemed to enjoy it. But then again, I don't think any of them even knew where they were. There was a woman repeatedly banging her head against the wall – her red hair was wild, untamed, and it swung down over her eyes every time she picked her head up off of the bricks. I grimaced, just thinking about the headache that the poor woman had, and I then turned to my left; in the chair against the wall, there sat an unusual looking human, a female, I thought, with a pointy head and a uni-brow. She smiled, crooked teeth jetting out from her lips as she laughed and hummed to the catchy tune, and the single curled patch of hair tied in a bow on the top of her head bounced with delight. How could someone be so oblivious to where they were? She must have been really confused. I turned my head again, this time to my right, and the first thing I saw was a man with his hand down his pants, violently pulling on himself. I cringed with disgust and immediately got up off of the couch to move to a different spot; when suddenly, a man approached me from behind and quickly jumped over the back of the couch, grabbing my torso and tightly holding me against him. I gasped, trying to scream, but he wrapped his arm around me and held a hand over my mouth.

“Hey there, you pretty lil' thing. You must be new. How 'bout we go in the kitchen, and I'll show you around, huh?”

I struggled to pull the man's hand off of my mouth, but he was too strong. I couldn't breathe. I panicked, twisting and turning out of his grip, but he just laughed.

“Oh, you're not going anywhere, Princess. I know exactly who you are. You were all over the news. You're _famous_!” He smiled menacingly, before tightening his grip. I shut my eyes tight, starting to feel lightheaded; a mix of absolute terror and suffocation. My heart rate sped up, I wanted to scream so bad, but I couldn't. “Now you know how it feels, you sick bitch. You suffocated your own goddamn--”

“Hey, get off 'er!” I heard someone yell, and I struggled to open my eyes. My vision was blurred, as my face was tightly pressed against this man's chest; but out of the corner of my eye, I saw another boy running toward us. He stopped in front of the couch and stood there for a moment, as the man holding me laughed again.

“And what are _you_ gonna do about it, tough guy? _Skin_ me?” The man sneered, and his hot breath hit my face. “...Oh, wait, you only do that to women, _don't_ you, Bloodyface?”

“I said, let 'er go!”

The other boy swung a heavy fist, missing my head by 6 inches; and the guy instantaneously let go of me as the punch landed right in the middle of his face, rocking him onto the floor. His head collided against the hardwood with a loud bang, and the guy was out cold.

I stood there and caught my breath, hands shaking, staring at the brown-haired boy who had his fists clenched in anger. The entire Common Room gasped, turning their attention to the three of us, and two guards came rushing into the room.

The boy and I looked at each other, speechless, and he gave me a slight smirk. I smiled back, nervously, and took a deep breath, trying to deaden the sound of my racing heart punching the inside of my chest.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, unsure if that was necessarily the right thing to say at this point. The boy nodded his head down respectfully before looking back up at me with the same smirk plastered onto his handsome face; until suddenly, one guard grabbed his arms and held them behind his back. His smirk immediately vanished as he watched the other guard pull out his baton; and I gasped, knowing what was about to happen. I held my hands out in front of me and took a step into the guards. “Wait, no-!”

And with a swing, he smacked the poor boy directly in the face with his wooden baton, sending his head reeling back. I gasped again, my heart leaping into my chest, and I grabbed onto the guard's sleeve, pulling him back. “No, stop! Stop, he didn't--”

The guard forcefully threw me off, sending me crashing down onto the floor, and he raised his baton again as the young boy groaned and picked his head up off his shoulders. The guard struck him in the face once more, this time even harder, throwing his head back again. The loud clunk echoed in my ears and made me flinch; I wanted to cry. The boy's head hung back, limp, blood dripping down his lips. He didn't pick his head back up.

The guards both grabbed him underneath each arm and dragged his lifeless body out of the Common Room.

The heavy doors shut with a loud thud, and I sat on the floor with my mouth agape; staring first at the door, then turning my head to stare at the unconscious man laying behind me. All of the patients went back to what they were doing before; the wild redhead banging her head against the wall, the unusual girl bouncing happily, and me – sitting there in shock, hearing the same words, over and over again.

_Dominique, nique, nique, s'en allait tout simplement,_   
_Routier, pauvre et chantant_   
_En tous chemins, en tous lieux,_   
_Il ne parle que du bon dieu,_   
_Il ne parle que du bon dieu._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's a little taste of Kit in there for you.  
> Little bit of a short chapter, but like I said, things will start to pick up, I promise.  
> I'll probably be posting a few chapters today, as I never sleep and will most likely be writing for hours.  
> Hope you're enjoying! Thanks for reading!


	3. A Pack Of Camels

“Miss Davis.”

…..

“Miss _Davis_!”

My head snapped up from staring down at the sticky dough covered in flour. “Huh?”

Sister Jude stared at me angrily for a moment or two before folding her arms neatly across her chest. “Miss Davis, unless you're in the mood for a good 20 lashes, I suggest you continue to work.”

I nodded my head, quickly grabbing the mess of dough in front of me. I didn't even realize that I had been staring off into space. “Yes, Sister Jude.”

“Mm.” The woman watched me for a minute as I started to knead the dough, and she eventually tapered off through the kitchen and out into the corridor. I breathed a sigh of relief; that woman was terrifying. She seemed to have such power, such control. I mean, she kind of had to, considering she ran the place, but still.

As I rolled it, the dough stuck to the counter and my hands. I peeled it out from underneath my fingernails and furrowed my brows as I reached into a bag of flour to sprinkle onto the counter top. I used to bake all the time for my husband, it was one of my favorite things to do. It used to make me feel happy, or at peace. Although at Briarcliff, the feelings it gave me were far from that.

“Hey, don't dwell on it. Sister Jude scared the shit out of me too at first. You learn to brush her off after a while.”

I looked up again, and my eyes met with a young woman whose hair was short, brown, and parted down the middle; her dark eyes -- deep, tired, and hopeful -- were lined with weary circles. Her full lips curled into a genuine smile as she layed a hand upon my shoulder, gently shaking me, snapping me out of my daze.

I blinked a few times before smiling back. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Just as long as you don't pick a fight with her, she won't be too harsh. I learned that the hard way.” She moved her hair aside from her face, showing me a faint scar on her temple. “Electroshock therapy. Didn't do much, just shook me up a little. I still remember everything they tried to make me forget.”

My heart leaped into my throat. Electroshock therapy? I didn't even know they practiced that here. I looked at the woman, my eyes wide and confused. “What is this place, a torture chamber?”

The girl chuckled sympathetically before hanging her head down, her chin almost touching her chest. She shook her head and her messy waves hung down in her face again. “No, it's worse.” She took in a breath as she picked her head back up, straightened her neck, and brought her eyes back in contact with mine. A tired smile graced her lips again, and she stuck out her hand. “I'm Lana.”

I studied her for a moment. She seemed quite normal, not like the others I witnessed in the Common Room. I extended my palm, grasping hers, and shook it firmly. “I'm Audrey.” We broke our handshake, and I cleared my throat. “Uh, pardon me for asking, but... Why are you in here?”

Lana made a face and chuckled. “Well, I'm on kitchen duty--”

“No, no. I mean, well, you seem... Normal. Why are you locked up here?”

Lana's smirk dropped. She raised her eyebrows, and I wasn't sure if I should have asked that question. I stayed quiet, and Lana drew in a breath. “Sister Jude blackmailed my lover into committing me here.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Your lover?”

Lana shut her eyes for a brief moment, hesitant to answer. She licked her lips and I couldn't help but think to myself, how could you lock away someone you love in some kind of sadistic mental ward? Lana opened her eyes, they looked glassy. “She was a woman.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Oh,” I whispered, and I understood immediately. Homosexuality was considered a mental illness. Oh, the poor girl. She was locked away in a nuthouse just for falling in love with someone.

Just then, the kitchen doors swung open. I flinched, expecting Sister Jude to burst into the room with a cane; but to my surprise – and actually, my delight – in walked a handsome boy with soft brown hair and a cigarette in between his lips. It took a minute for me to filter who it was; but it quickly came to me. He was the boy who had saved me from that psychopath.

I felt my face light up, and my heart swelled; but it quickly deflated when I noticed the devastating purple bruise around his right eye. His nose was red, stained from the blood, and his pink lips were split right down the middle – and it was all my fault.

Lana noticed my gaze, and she followed to where my eyes had set. She gasped, shocked at the boy's appearance, and she turned around to face him. He stopped at a counter near the loaves of bread, grabbing a white apron off of the hangers, and he sloppily tied it around his back. Lana shook her head.

“Kit!”

The boy's head shot up, and he turned it towards Lana. He gave her a slight smile and started to walk toward her; but once he took a few steps, he noticed that I was standing there, too. My heart jumped, and I felt nervous; as though he would be angry with me. I wouldn't blame him if he were.

He looked at me with the same look he gave me right before he was smacked with the guard's baton – a sloppy, shy grin spread across his bruised face, and he approached us, taking a drag of his cigarette and removing it from between his parted lips. 

“What happened to you?” Lana asked, gently touching his face. “Was it Dr. Arden?”

I held my breath as the handsome boy glanced at me, smiling, before transferring his gaze to Lana. “...Yeah, Arden.”

I furrowed my brow. Dr. Arden? I hardly remember a presence of any type of doctor during our episode the Common Room. Maybe more oxygen left my brain when that man was choking me than I thought. Lana sighed angrily, rolling her eyes, and she gave Kit a pat on the shoulder.

“That sadistic bastard. What happened?”

Kit looked at me again with a strange glimmer in his eye, and he cleared his throat before bringing his attention to Lana. “He, uh, just strapped me down in his chair and slapped me around a little, that's all. 'Said I was lyin' about those creatures I saw in the sky. Nothin' to worry about.”

Okay, now, I know the man didn't screw up my head that bad. The boy, Kit, he was lying. I wondered why. I raised my eyebrows at him, and I know that he saw me out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't quite look at me. He kept his stare at Lana.

She looked back at him and shook her head again. “Sick fuck, he is. I don't understand how he gets away with--”

“Miss Winters.”

The three of us jumped. We turned around to face a younger nun, seemingly in charge of the kitchen for the day, and I practically heard all of us breathe a sigh of relief. The sweet nun smiled and layed a hand on Lana's back. “Miss Winters, your time is up for today. Hang your apron and get back to your room.”

Lana brushed her flour-dusted hands off on her apron before beginning to untie it. “Thank you, Sister.” She turned toward us and smiled, giving Kit another pat on the shoulder, and the nun walked her out of the room.

As the door shut, I turned towards the boy standing in front of me, and I smiled weakly. “So, I take it that there's no Dr. Arden?”

Kit smiled back before taking a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from me respectively. “Nah, there is. But he didn't slap me around. Not recently, anyway.”

I laughed, and it felt forced, but maybe that was just because I was nervous. My smile soon disappeared, and I felt racked with guilt. I looked at his black eye and the cut through his soft, pink lips. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. I hung my head down.

“Listen, I'm uh, sorry for what they did to you,” I said softly. “Or, well, what I did to you. You didn't have to stand up for me like that.”

Kit knitted his brow, dipping his head down so that he could get a look at my face as I faced it toward my feet. He took a step inward, and he shook his head.

“I wasn't gonna let 'em hurt you. I was pushed around when I got tossed in here too, and it wasn't very fun. You didn't do this to me,” he pointed at his face, then to the door, “...They did. It wasn't your fault.”

I stayed like that, eyes perpendicular to the floor, and I stared at my hands hanging down at my sides. His voice was so soft; low, gentle, and a Boston accent that sometimes fluctuated between his words. When he saw my guilt, he placed a hand on my head, and smoothed down a stray piece of hair. “What's your name, huh?”

I picked my head up to look at him, and he flashed a dimpled smile; his eyes sparkled, regardless of the dim kitchen light. I forgot how to speak for a moment, his aura just captured me.

“Oh, um, it's Audrey,” I said, tucking a lock of my light brown hair behind my right ear. Kit nodded, with the same handsome smirk upon his face, and he reached into his pocket.

“Mm.” He pulled out a pack of cigs and opened it with one hand, offering it to me. “You want a smoke, Audrey?”

I blinked and smiled, nodding, and gently pulled one out of the Camel pack. “Sure.”

“Ah! How generous of you, Mr. Walker.”

Again, the two of us were startled; we turned around, and of course, there stood Sister Jude, her arms crossed behind her back. Jesus Christ, this wasn't going to end well. She cleared her throat and circled us, with a sinister smirk on her face. “... But I believe I've made it clear not to smoke in the kitchen.”

Kit pulled the cigarette box back, shoving it into his pocket. “Cut her a break, Sister, she didn't know.”

Sister Jude unclasped her hands and placed them on her hips as she raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I wasn't referring to _her_ , Mr. Walker. I believe I was speaking to _you_.” She studied his damaged face, looking him up and down, and let out a snark laugh. “It looks like you've already gotten yourself into a bit of trouble today. Did you not learn your lesson?”

Kit glared at her as she mocked him; his sweet, warm eyes turning ice cold. When he didn't answer her, she transferred her attention to me. “And _you_ , Miss Davis. Didn't I tell you to get back to work?”

Terrified, I stood there, shifting my glances between Kit and the angered nun. “Yes, Sister Jude.”

She stared at us, arms still angrily placed on her hips, eyes piercing through us. “I think what the two of you need is some time to sit and reflect upon our rules here at this institution,” she said casually, and she glared at Kit. “Whether it be smoking in the kitchen...” She shifted her angry stare to me, “... Or respecting and obeying your elders.”

Kit and I looked at each other. I was unsure of what she meant; but the grave look on Kit's face told me that he knew exactly what was about to happen. Sister Jude let her arms down, and waved a hand through the air.

“Solitary, for the both of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's Lana, and a mention of Arden.
> 
> Kit is so damn cute, I can't even handle it. I've watched Asylum like 3 or 4 times, and every time I watch it, I swear he just gets cuter. I couldn't help myself to writing this story.
> 
> Next chapter should be up tomorrow, I'll try my hardest to update every day!
> 
> Thanks for reading. I have yet to see a review... Please give me some feedback, I would love to know what you all think!


	4. Alone

I hadn't even been there more than a day, and I was already losing my mind.

I sat there in the cold, damp cell, with nothing but a filthy mattress and a plate of untouched slop sitting right at the base of the heavy metal door. I shivered, chills spreading through my body, even under the heavy straitjacket. The walls looked as though they had been clawed at; desperately, angrily, madly, with faded red stains accompanying the ridges left in the old concrete. The room closed in, slowly, threateningly, and it tortured me. The only sound to be heard was the eerie hum of the electric lights hanging in the hall, and I wanted so desperately to get out. I knew I didn't belong here. My family may not know it, Sister Jude may not know it, but I did. I didn't commit the horrible crimes that they say I did. In fact, I had to live through them.

But I didn't want to think about that right now. It was bad enough I got locked up and thrown away like an old beat-up stuffed animal.

I began to tap my head lightly against the concrete wall. I needed some sort of movement, some comfort, such as a baby being rocked to sleep. But then I thought back to the Common Room, and that poor redhead slamming her head against the bricks. What if this was how she started? Just tapping along, looking for some calming effect. She was probably a completely normal person, just like me. Innocent, misunderstood, even hurt. They locked her away, and she probably lost her mind; right in this very cell, doing the same thing I'm doing. I shivered again. I decided to stop tapping my head against the wall.

I sat there and stared down at my fragile little body, all wrapped up in this cream-colored fabric. It felt rough, coarse, and it itched my bare arms as they sat neatly tucked away inside of it. I felt frustrated; as a stray piece of hair kept falling down into my face and tickling me, and I could not push it out of the way. I felt like there were spiders crawling all over my body, and there was nothing I could do to get them off of me. I was absolutely trapped, and it made me so fucking nervous.

My eyes pulled in and out of focus. It was so dark in that cell, the only thing I could see was the small square of light fighting it's way through the tiny square cut out of the door; the only opening towards the hallway. 

My stomach churned. The room smelled of disinfectant; and let me tell you, it wasn't lemon fresh. It reeked of bleach; yet at the same time, it smelled of filth – of other patients, dead or alive, rotting away in this cage, their lives slipping away from them. I felt nauseated with fear and disgust. These people were neglected the care that they needed; shoved into a mental ward, their diseases and illnesses just tossed aside and ignored. Nobody cared, nobody helped them. The less patients to have to deal with, the better; so they were left for dead, with no one to come looking for them. And now, I was one of those people – alone, unloved, neglected, and not a single person coming after me.

I retched, and I tasted the sour bile in my throat as I spit onto the floor. I didn't really throw up anything, I hadn't eaten all day. 

It kept coming. I heaved, over and over again; and my stomach muscles contracted tightly with each forceful push. I felt constricted, claustrophobic – the sleeves on my straitjacket began to feel tighter, and the room continued to get smaller. I needed to get the fuck out of there. Anywhere in this asylum had to be better than this dark, miserable cell.

Again, my stomach jolted; I heaved loudly, and nothing but a string of saliva descended from my lower lip. It began to get painful; as there was nothing being pushed up, my muscled just overworked themselves. My body quaked as I sat there on the cold floor, repeatedly being sick.

I wondered where that boy was – Kit. Sister Jude had sent him to solitary as well. He had to be somewhere along this hallway; from what I know, there was only one section at Briarcliff for patients in solitary, and it was right in here. I wanted to call out his name, to see if he could hear me, but I couldn't. I couldn't gather myself together, I couldn't stop vomiting. 

I coughed, spitting out more saliva, and I managed to pause for about 30 seconds. I listened for noises in the hall, in other cells; I tried to see if I could hear him. Or, anybody, for that matter. I took in a deep breath and cleared my throat, although it felt rough and scratchy.

“K-Kit?”

I waited, listening intently, but I didn't hear a response. Perhaps I was too quiet. I cleared my throat again, loosening up some of the mucus coating my vocal chords.

“Kit? Are you in here?”

I paused again, and I sighed. The cells must be soundproof. I felt my stomach churn again at the thought of being alone; but then I heard a noise, and I don't think I've ever heard a sweeter one.

“Audrey?”

My anxiety flushed out, I felt so much better. I didn't feel sick anymore. I crawled on my knees over to the door and sat next to it, pressing my ear against the cold metal. “That's you, right, Kit?”

“It's me, Audrey. I'm here, I'm right here. Are you okay?”

I felt myself smile; yet at the same time, my eyes blurred with tears. I felt so overwhelmed. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Was that you bein' sick in there?”

My cheeks went red with embarrassment. He heard that? Tears spilled over my cheeks; I wanted to wipe them, but my hands were bound at my sides. “...Oh, uh, yeah.”

“I'm gonna getcha outta there, Audrey. Don't you worry, okay?”

I sobbed quietly, trying my hardest to stifle the sounds so that the boy across the corridor wouldn't hear me breaking down behind the metal door. “O-okay, Kit.”

“Just hang in there for a bit, okay? I can't do anything with this goddamn jacket on, an' I gotta wait for Sister Jude to-”

Suddenly, the sound of the hall door opening up echoed throughout the empty hall. I breathed a sigh of relief; Sister Jude was finally coming to get us. 

The faint sound of footsteps vibrated through the door that my head rested upon. The sound was a bit different than her normal heels; it seemed duller, heavier. The footsteps got closer, vibrating my door a bit more and more with each step. Eventually, the locks to my heavy door became unhinged; and I backed up as it swung open, revealing not Sister Jude, but an extremely tall man with no hair and a long, white lab coat. He raised his eyebrows at my crunched-up position on the floor of the dirty cell as he let out a chuckle; and my heart dropped down into my stomach as I read his name plate.

“Ah, the little new girl. Pleasure to meet you, I'm Dr. Arden.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more of an internal chapter. I mean, when you're in solitary, there's nothing to do but listen to your own thoughts. So what better thing to write about?
> 
> Okay, I know you've gotta be wondering – what is Audrey's story? What crimes is she talking about?
> 
> Stick around and read a few more chapters. In time, my dear readers.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated, so please leave one if you're feeling up to it. (I may even take suggestions, if you wish to enlighten me!)


	5. Sick, Sick, Sick

“Now, let's have a look at you, shall we?”

I layed there on the cold, metal slab; my wrists bound to the straps that held them, and my ankles restricted against the silver sheet. My heart pounded against my ribs, I wouldn't have been surprised if it even cracked them – the pulse was so heavy, I heard it echo through my ears. I wiggled a little bit, trying to loosen myself from the tight bonds, but Dr. Arden just tugged at them again.

“Oh, now where do you think _you're_ going?” He asked, almost childishly; belittling me, like I was some sort of animal. “We need to make sure you're nice and healthy.”

I breathed heavily; almost as though I had just ran a mile, I felt so winded. I licked my extremely dry lips and shook my head at the strange man. “I am, Doctor. I'm just fine.”

He raised his gray eyebrows at me, with a devilish smirk coinciding along with it. “Just fine? Well, Audrey, you didn't _sound_ fine when you were vomiting, back in that cell. As a matter of fact, I would never have heard you if you hadn't called out to that boy – Kit Walker,” he explained, and my breath caught in my throat at the mention of Kit's name. Arden tugged on my straps once again, making me wince in pain. They were way too tight, I could feel it. “... You know, that boy skinned three women. Including his wife. You may not want to associate with him much longer. You may find yourself in a bit of a predicament.”

I scoffed at first, not believing a word coming out of his mouth. He was just trying to scare me away. They'll do anything in this place to make sure you don't form an alliance with anybody. I learned that first hand. But Arden looked at me and raised his eyebrows again, and I thought about it for a minute. Suddenly, something struck me. Something I had heard, but I let it go through one ear and out the other. I struggled to remember at first; but once I did, the words rang through my head over and over again.

_“And what are you gonna do about it, tough guy? Skin me?"_

_“Oh, wait, you only do that to women, don't you, Bloodyface?”_

I chill ran down my spine; my skin puckering up into tiny goosebumps, and my breath hitched. Dr. Arden had positioned a bright light over my body, and my eyes squinted from the luminosity. I tried my hardest to avoid looking into the light, but there was really nowhere else to look. I parted my lips for a moment, wetting them, and I sucked in a breath. I knew the name. I've heard it on the news, only a week or two before I was committed here. “...Bloodyface.”

Arden stopped his movements for a moment. “Ah, you're smarter than you look, Audrey.”

I didn't answer; I didn't want to. Part of me still didn't believe the Doctor's harsh words about Kit, or the man in the Common Room's psychotic slurs. How could such a sweet, quiet boy be responsible for such horrendous murders? Whether it was true or not, the thought of it still made me sick to my stomach. I knew Alyson Rydell, one of Bloodyface's victims. She was an old family friend. I hadn't spoken to her in years; but that didn't make her death any less real.

What if it really was Kit? Oh, God. My stomach churned again, twisting and turning; and I felt it coming. I struggled to sit up, but the straps held me tight against the metal slab. “D-Dr. Arden, I'm going to be sick.”

Arden gently picked up a dainty syringe off of his medical table. “Oh, nonsense. You haven't eaten all day, nothing will come up. Just lay down, relax. Let me see what's going on in that body of yours.”

I held my breath, trying to stop my gag reflexes; struggling to get out of the tight restraints. I could barely move at all, but I guess that was the point of being tied down. “I really... I have to get up. I can't be-”

“I _said_ , lay down,” Arden scolded, laying a hand on top of my forehead and forcefully pushing my head against the hard metal. I hiccuped, then retched; and I felt so uncomfortable. He was right, nothing was coming out, but just the sheer pain of being held down on my back alone was bad as it was; and vomiting at the same time, oh, it was miserable.

The anxiety just made it worse. Heave after heave, I layed there, and the doctor did nothing to help me; until I saw him fill the small syringe with a clear liquid. I relaxed for a moment, assuming it was to help the nausea and the vomiting; but as he inserted it into my arm, it burned. It felt like Dr. Arden himself had lit a match and injected it into my bloodstream; and I felt the medicine – if you would even call it that – course through my veins. My heaving fits grew more intense; my back was arching off the table, and my throat felt like it was being ripped in half. My stomach ached, as if I had just done 10,000 sit-ups, and my entire body trembled. I couldn't bear the pain much longer, and my eyes became over sensitive. The light looming over me was now as bright at the sun, I couldn't even keep my eyes open.

“What-” I stuttered, writhing in pain; eyes rolling back into my skull. “What are you... g-giving m..e?”  
My words felt like jello on my tongue, slipping and sliding all over the place, and there was nothing I could do to control it.

Arden seemed to not take in interest in my agony. He continued on, picking up syringes and filling them with different color liquids as he studied them carefully through his thin glasses. He adjusted them on his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose, and flicked the side of the syringe he was holding, which was filled with a liquid that was slightly green in color. He injected it into my vein; and almost immediately, my body began to react violently. “Not to worry, Miss Davis. I'm injecting you with cicutoxin,” he replied, never looking me in the face. I wheezed, feeling my body convulsing, and I gripped at the sides of the slab.

“Cicu.... What? W-hat is that?”

“Cicutoxin is a chemical found in certain plants, up here in parts of Northern America. I sampled this from a Water Hemlock, found just outside our institution here,” he explained, with a face as straight as an arrow. “I contracted it from the roots, where the chemical is most concentrated. It is extremely toxic to humans. As a matter of fact,” he paused, finally placing down the syringe, and looking me in the face. He smirked, sadistically, evilly, and leaned in. “... It just might kill you.”

My heart raced. My chest convulsed; over and over, and I felt like my heart was going to beat so fast that I would explode. I didn't want to ask what exactly was happening to me. Even if I did, I couldn't – I couldn't even breathe.

I accepted it. I didn't want to fight against this man. I didn't want to fight against anything! I wasn't going to win. And I was sure that death would be a hell of a lot better than being tortured in this hellhole.

I couldn't stay awake anymore. My eyes kept rolling back into my skull, and I couldn't control it. I fought to keep them awake, just for another minute or so; but before I could even think, I was out like a light.

It was a deep state of slumber. Not death; death would have been permanent. Even during my short coma, I felt trapped; scared, unable to relax, and I hated it. No dreams, no sounds, no sights – just darkness. I felt the world closing in on me. I thought about my husband Johnny, and my sweet baby. I thought about that night... That horrible, heart-shattering night... And it tortured me. It was worse than anything I've ever endured, even Dr. Arden's injections. I'd rather be here, in this experimental nuthouse, than to ever relive that night again. And lucky me, that's exactly where I was.

The slumber didn't last long. Or at least, it didn't feel like it did, anyway. I struggled to open my eyes for a moment; they felt heavy, almost like someone had hot glued a weight to each of my lids. I blinked, trying to get the blurry images clear again. I was in a bed, and someone was standing in front of me.

“Audrey?”

I knitted my brow, trying to focus. I blinked as my vision faded in and out, black spots clouding my line of sight.

“Audrey, are you alright? What'd he do to you, huh?”

I groaned; my head ached, my eyes were sore... And oh, Christ, my stomach might as well be shriveled up to a raisin, if it hadn't been already. My eyes slowly came into focus, and I noticed who was standing in front of me.

His big brown eyes looked terrified. He stared at me, leaning against the infirmary bed with his arm; and once he realized I was awake, he squatted down next to me. “What'd he do, Audrey? Did he hurt you?” He picked his arm up off of the bed pole and placed it on my cheek, and I flinched. My heart dropped into my stomach.

_“And what are you gonna do about it, tough guy? Skin me?"_

_“Oh, wait, you only do that to women, don't you, Bloodyface?”_

My eyes filled up with tears, as I looked into his dark eyes, and I began to cry. I didn't want to.

Kit became nervous, scanning my face quickly, and shaking his head. “Oh, no, Audrey, don't cry, I'm here. I'm right here, see?” He wiped a thumb across my wet cheeks and moved closer to me. I wanted to back away; I wanted to run, scream, I wanted to get away from him. But at the same time, all I wanted was for him to be closer.

I didn't know if he really _was_ Bloodyface; but I certainly didn't want to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw Dr. Arden. Like, for real. I've seen Asylum about 4 times and every time I just hate him even more.
> 
> So now that Audrey has some information, it'll be interesting to see how she plays it out.
> 
> I hope you all are enjoying. Please review, suggest, critique!


	6. No Such Thing As Personal

I layed in that infirmary bed for quite some time. My body felt weak; it shook, it trembled, along with even the slightest movement sending me into muscle spasms. Kit stayed in there with me for the most part, and I wasn't exactly sure why – or how, for that matter. I assumed that they would have kicked him out at a certain point. They never came for him.

I still felt uneasy. I was scared of him. Terrified, actually. Yet at the same time, he comforted me; I felt protected when he was around. I didn't know for sure, but maybe because he had been here longer that I had, and he knew what was going on around this god forsaken place. Or maybe it was because he was the first person to show me kindness; almost heroically, and it made me feel like someone cared, at least a little. _Or_ it could have just been because he was so good looking. Who could blame me?

But in all seriousness, the fact that I felt comforted by a possible psychopath serial killer made me feel a _little_ on edge. But I don't know, maybe it's just me.

I rested my head on the flat, musty pillow and stared at the boy sitting at the foot of my bed, who was twiddling his thumbs and playing with a loose string on his denim button-up. He looked so innocent; almost angelic, and I thought to myself – How could someone this beautiful pull off something so gruesome? And even if he hadn't done it, how could anyone _pin_ it on someone this beautiful?

He seemed quiet; probably tired from being up all night in that dreadful isolation cell. He finally got out early this morning, Sister Jude let him return to his normal room. But once he heard that Arden got his hands on me, he came here instead. I couldn't exactly figure out why he was so involved with me; after all, I had only met him yesterday, and the first thing I did was get him beaten by the guards. Then I got him thrown into solitary. I was surprised he still stuck around, I was a walking tornado.

I looked at him again, feeling a mixture of emotions flooding my chest. I didn't know what to believe. I bit the inside of my cheek for a moment, exhaling heavily, and Kit looked up at me. He smiled sweetly, extending his arm out and placing his hand on my leg, which was covered in a heavy quilt. He licked his lips and studied me for a minute. “You look better. Do you feel better?”

I nodded and forced a smile upon my face. Using my arms, which were as weak as noodles, I pushed myself up against my headboard so that I could sit up a bit. “Yeah, a little. I'm sore.”

Kit nodded. “I'm sure you are.” He ran his fingers through his hair, which kept falling down onto his forehead; and as he swept it back, he sighed heavily. “When I get outta this place, I'm gonna fuck up Arden so bad, that they're gonna have to put me right back in here.”

I laughed nervously; and I felt a bit of fear. I wasn't sure if he was serious, or if he was just exaggerating like we all do. I stayed quiet for a minute, and Kit must have gotten the vibe that something was wrong. The slight smile on his face turned into a concerned stare. “Is somethin' botherin' you, Audrey?”

I avoided his gaze. I didn't want to meet eyes with him, it would only make me more nervous. But I couldn't stand the uncertainty. I was going to just ignore my instincts, to just make believe I was in some kind of happy fairy tale; Kit was the only friend that I felt as though I had. And I didn't want to jeopardize that – even if it meant ignoring the fact that he was a deranged killer. 

But at the same time, how stupid could I be? I'd much rather know I was safe, regardless of the fact that I would be alone. Kit could kill me at any given moment. But.... Did I actually care? Oh, I had no fucking clue, I just wanted out of this slaughter house!

“Kit,” I said quietly, and I took in a breath. The sweet boy looked at me quizzically, curiously, and I cleared my throat. It was still so sore from all of that dry heaving. “Can I ask you something? Something kind of personal?”

Kit smiled. “There ain't no such thing as personal in this place, sweetheart.”

I smiled back a little bit, and I think it was real that time. “Can you tell me...” I looked away from him for a moment, but I returned my gaze quickly. “... Can you tell me why you were put in here?”

Kit's smile never dropped; but it lessened, turning more into a sad smirk. He looked at me, solemnly, and he shook his head. “Oh, Audrey, you... You don't wanna hear all that-”

“Please,” I begged, and I sat up further, taking his hand into mine. It was strange – I didn't feel nervous anymore. “Please, Kit. I need to know.”

He looked at me with glassy eyes before shifting his stare toward our hands; he stared at my slim fingers gently gripping his own, pleading, and he shut his eyes for a moment to gather himself together. 

“I, uh, had come home to my wife one night,” he said, his eyes still shut tight. He opened them after a moment or two, and I gently ran my thumb across his hand. I felt bad making him re-live whatever he went through; but I would never have been satisfied if he didn't tell me his story – even if it wasn't necessarily true. “... From workin' a long shift, you know, and I, uh...” He swallowed. “... I took her into the bedroom, and after we were done foolin' around, all of a sudden these bright lights came flashing. I thought it was just some dickheads I knew, tryin' to torment us, but it wasn't. It was these-” He paused, blinking wildly, as though the scene were playing out right in front of him. “... These animals, _creatures_ , I don't know where they came from. But they took us. They took me an' my wife up to their own world. I didn't see much. It was all white, up there. They stuck probes in us and did some kind of experimental shit, I don't know what it was. But when I opened my eyes, I was back home – and my wife wasn't.”

I stared at him, listening intently. I really couldn't tell if this was complete and utter bullshit, or if he was really telling the truth. Aliens? Normally I would have laughed in his face and told him to get out; but something was telling me to keep listening.

He raised a hand up to his face to rub his tired eyes, and he continued. “Next thing I know, I'm... I'm bein' dragged away by my wrists, an' they're tellin' me that Alma's dead,” he began to get worked up, and my heart was breaking for him. He hung his head down and raised his arm up to his eyes, his denim sleeve soaking up his tears. But he kept going. “An' they're sayin' that I killed her. They're sayin' that I killed my own wife, and two other ladies that I didn't even know. They wouldn't believe me when I told 'em what really happened. I mean, who would? Aliens? But I swear, I didn't make it up. But nobody would listen to me, an' I don't blame 'em,” he said, his voice quivering at first, but building back up again. He raised his head up from hiding behind his sleeve and he breathed in. “They told me that they found Alma,” he paused, visibly getting upset, unable to hold back his emotions. “... Skinned, decapitated, layin' there outside my house...” He broke apart. He couldn't even speak, and I felt tears starting to sting my eyes as I immediately pulled him into my tiny chest, holding him while he wept.

“Oh, Kit,” I whispered, soothing him, “Kit, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...”

Tears blurred my vision, yet they never left my eyes, and I shut my lids; listening to the quiet sobs of the boy with his face buried in my blanketed chest. I felt him clutching me, his body shaking with emotion, and I realized that he was telling the truth.

I don't know what it was. It wasn't the fact that he was crying into my arms, and it wasn't the heart-shattering story that he claimed to have gone through. It wasn't even his sincerity; but something made sense to me – and I knew that he wasn't Bloodyface. 

The sweet boy pulled himself together as he gently broke away from me, wiping his tears away with his sleeve again. He drew in a long, shaky breath. “Oh, God, I'm sorry,” he said, and I couldn't tell if his cheeks were red from crying or from his embarrassment. He rubbed his eyes, turning away from me slightly. “Sorry, I'm... Ah. I didn't mean to-”

“No no no, Kit. Don't be sorry,” I said, taking his hand away from his face, and holding it firmly in mine. I looked into his eyes, which were stained red with tears, and I slipped my hand out of his grasp and gently placed it on his face. I stroked his puffy cheek with the side of my thumb and his eyes searched my soul; wanting, needing something, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I smiled at him – a sad, sympathetic smile, and I opened my mouth to speak. “I believe you.”

His eyes widened; not excitedly, but with relief. He brought his hand up to where mine lay on his face, and he placed his right on top of it. “You do?”

“Yes,” I said, and I wasted no time answering him. “Yes, Kit, I believe you. I promise.”

He looked at me, eyes frantically darting across my face, and he suddenly pulled me into him. He hugged me tightly, his body still trembling, but he was strong; and his arms enveloped me almost completely into him. When we pulled away, I held his hand again; and a smile broke out on his face. It wasn't quite real yet, it still hinted at sadness, but he was getting there.

“Thank you for hearin' me out,” he said, finally recuperated. “And I don't blame you if you feel a little uneasy. I dunno, if I was put into an Asylum and some kid came cryin' to me about aliens, I wouldn't really trust him, either.”

We both chuckled a little bit and I shook my head. “But I _do_ trust you.”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk, leaning back on the bed with his palms. “Well, not to say you shouldn't, but why _do_ you? For all you know, I could be just as crazy as anyone else here.”

I bit my lip and sighed. “Because no one believes my story, either.”

Kit widened his eyes and sat back up. It was as if he had forgotten that I was thrown into Briarcliff for a reason. To be honest, I almost forgot, too. I guess I was distracted by all of the other shit going on in here. 

He leaned his head down, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “...Your story?”

I nodded, and my heart fluctuated. I tried so hard to forget that night; and I had a feeling that in a few minutes, it would all come flooding back to me, just like it did for Kit.

He scooted a bit closer to me and placed his hand on my knee, still covered with a quilt. He hesitated to speak for a moment, but he managed. “Audrey... What _is_ your story?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan Peters + crying = me a complete mess.
> 
> But I felt as though Kit never really got to mourn over Alma in the show. He was thrown into such a ridiculous situation that he seemed to gloss right over her death. I added this chapter for multiple reasons, but it was mainly just a release for him.
> 
> We're getting closer to hearing about the horrible night that Audrey endured. Stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. I love your comments. Keep them coming! :)


	7. Lana Banana

I looked at Kit; my eyes were blurry and I swallowed hard to get the lump out of my throat. I had never spoken out loud about what happened to me before – nobody had ever given me the chance to. I transferred my forlorn gaze down at my quaking hands, gripping at the woven quilt lying on top of me, and I shook my head. Kit rubbed my knee, trying to put me at ease, and he smiled sadly.

“I'm not gonna judge you. I'm right here, okay?” He took his hand off my knee and slipped it into one of my clammy palms, and he pulled my hand off of the blanket in order to hold it within his. “Just... Tell me what happened.”

I brought my eyes up from staring down at my lap, and I managed to look him in the face. It relaxed me, seeing his sweet dimples, and I drew in a long breath. “Well,” I paused, swallowing again, trying so hard to get that goddamn lump out from my throat. I wanted to gag; it choked me, even though nothing was actually there. I shut my eyes for a moment, and reopened them. “It was, um. It was really late at night, and-”

“Kit! I've been looking all over for you!”

I abruptly stopped my sentence and brought my attention to the doorway, which was blocked by a young woman, breathing heavily in a panic. Lana, I believe her name was. Kit suddenly released my hand, which was still shaking quite terribly, and he stood up from the bed to greet her. “Lana?”

“Kit, I found it! C'mon, we have to go. Now!”

Kit made a face, furrowing his brow in confusion. “What are you talking about-”

“The tunnel!” Lana exclaimed, sounding exasperated. “It's called the death chute. It was the way I got into Briarcliff. And now, it's the way we're getting out.” Lana looked around Kit, over at me, lying helplessly in the infirmary bed. She smiled at me, powerfully, ingeniously. “And Audrey, you're coming with us.”

Kit continued to look at Lana; he looked wildly confused, baffled, and completely taken by surprise. “Lana, how are we gonna-”

“Sister Jude just took Dr. Arden up to her office. Word is, they're discussing treatment for a new patient. And I have a bad feeling about who that patient might be.” Lana glanced over at me, and all the blood in my veins froze. She shook her head, continually looking between me and the confused boy, and she continued. “There was just a huge fight in the kitchen. Knives were thrown, there's blood everywhere. The guards are swarming the place. There's a perfectly clear path between here and the tunnel – but we have to move. And _fast_!”

My heart stopped for a second as Kit turned around to face me. He squatted down and took both of my hands into his own. He was so close to my face; and I almost fainted. He made me so nervous – but it was a good kind of nervous.

He smiled, his eyes darting across my face excitedly. “Audrey, this could be our chance to get out of here.”

I stuttered, frantically looking at him and Lana, and I couldn't seem to push any words out of my mouth. I cleared my throat, and finally I was able to respond. “I-I can't. Kit, I'm too weak. Arden sucked the life out of me. I'm not going to be able to-”

“I'll carry you. I'll put you on my shoulders. I'll drag you, I'll strap you to my back!” He laughed, but suddenly he moved even closer, and I felt his hot breath against my dry lips. “But Audrey,” he paused, grabbing the sides of my face and giving me a little shake, “... I'm _not_ leaving you here.”

Lana quickly made her way over to the bed and rolled down my sheets. “That's right, we're not leaving you here.” She slid an arm underneath my shoulder and forcefully pulled me up; I gained balance quickly, but my legs still felt so weak. Lana smiled, throwing my white cardigan over my shoulders and giving me a gentle pull forward. “Audrey, I read your file. I got a hold of it when Jude was distracted. But there's proof – and I know you didn't do it.”

I cocked an eyebrow, and my eyes blinked with bewilderment as the two of them held me up for a moment while I regained my equilibrium. “W-What? My file says I'm innocent?”

Lana smiled and breathed in sharply. “No, not exactly.”

Just then, we heard a manic scream come from the other side of the hallway. Guards rushed past our door in the direction of the outburst, and Kit turned toward us again. “C'mon, we have to go!”

Kit took Lana's place as he slid his arm behind me, supporting me, and Lana took the initiative in front of us. She pulled the door open and looked both ways in the hallway, as though she were crossing the road, and she signaled us to follow her as she made a quick right into the corridor. “Come on, this way. Stay as quiet as you can.”

The halls were dark, as they always were; nothing but a hanging light every 20 feet or so. It was cold, damp, and the atmosphere sent chills down my spine. We stepped with light feet as we ran, making barely a sound between the three of us; and Kit held on to me, taking most of the weight off of my wobbly legs, which it made it easier for me to run. After a short time, however, I began to get lethargic. My movements became sluggish, and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I was incredibly dizzy, and I tried to fight it, but I went limp in Kit's arms. He caught me completely, sweeping me off of my feet, and he held me as we ran.

“Uh oh,” he said, adjusting me in his muscular arms. “Stay awake, Audrey. Stay awake. I got you, we're getting' outta here.”

Lana looked back at us as Kit kept up with her, and she gasped. “Jesus, what did Arden shoot her up with?”

Kit kept his pace behind Lana, regardless of the extra weight I exerted on him. He brushed my hair out of my eyes; which were blurry, fading in and out. “Oh, I don't know, but I swear to God, Lana, I'll kill him!”

I forced myself awake and my adrenaline beat the medicine. “I'm okay, I'm okay,” I said quietly, my arms wrapped around Kit's neck. “I'm fine. Just give me a minute.”

We continued to run until we reached an end of the hall, with nowhere to go but the spiral staircase leading down to the lobby. Kit gently set me down once I regained some strength, and Lana looked around nervously before gathering us in a small circle to talk for a moment.

“Even though most of the guards are down in the kitchen, there is always at least one, standing at the bottom of the stairs. We have to figure out a way to get around him.”

Lana peered over the edge of the railing to see if there was anyone standing in our way. Suddenly, she gasped, backing herself away from the edge, and it made Kit and I jump.

“What's wrong?” Kit asked, looking down to where Lana had been searching. She suddenly jumped in front of Kit, pushing him away from the railing, and Kit stumbled back.

“Kit, keep her away from there,” Lana said, pointing at me. “Don't let her look!”

I widened my eyes in confusion as Kit grabbed me, holding me tightly and protectively. “Wait, what? No! Let me see!”

Lana got in front of my face and held me still. “Audrey, listen to me. Do not go down there, do you understand me? Somebody is down there that you don't know about. He will rip you apart if he sees you. Okay?”

I nodded frantically, terrified. Who was it that was down there? And how did Lana know he would rip me apart? Kit faced me away from the railing, but I felt him turn his head to look. He cocked an eyebrow at Lana, who shook her head from side to side, trying to keep him quiet about who it was.

He licked his lips, and he looked a little panicked. “Thredson.”

I looked back at him quizzically. “Who's Thredson?”

Kit shook his head, giving Lana a strange look as he answered me. “He was the psychologist assigned to my case.”

Lana breathed in deeply before pushing her hair out of her face. “He also broke me out of Briarcliff, took me to his house, violated me, and killed my lover.” She swallowed hard, peeking over the handrail at the mysterious murderer lurking below us. “Audrey, he's Bloodyface.”

I contorted my face in disbelief. “You know for sure?”

Lana ignored my question, frantically grabbing Kit's face.“You can't let him or Audrey see each other. He'll kill her. He'll do _anything_ to get rid of her. You have to trust me!”

“Lana, relax for a second, huh? He doesn't even know 'er.”

“I read her case file, it told me everything I need to know! He isn't who he says he is...” Lana paused, trying to find a way to project her thoughts into words, but she never finished her sentence.

I thought about it for a moment. Why would my case file have anything to do with Bloodyface?

Kit subconsciously loosened his grip on me, and he took a step towards Lana.“I know he hurt you, Lana. But he's too smart. He got away with pinnin' it all on me. He's not just gonna up and kill 'er, he'd get-”

“Let _go_!” I yelled, breaking free of Kit's grasp. I needed to see who this man was. The asshole who murdered all those women – the asshole that got Kit thrown in here. I threw myself to the railing, and it hit me in the chest with a thud; but when I looked at the man standing by the staircase, my heart dropped all the way to the pit of my stomach.

“Audrey!” Lana yelled, pulling me away, but it was too late. At first I thought I must have been seeing things; that drug that Arden doped me up with was just fucking with my head. But the more and more I stared at the man with the slick, black hair and thick-rimmed glasses, setting down his brown briefcase next to his polished shoes, the more and more everything came together in my head.

The man looked up, as if on cue, and his eyes met with mine; those handsome, dark eyes that I had known for so long. The ones that I looked into for comfort that horrible night – and his lips curled into a devilish smile; the same smile I watched grow upon his face as he watched me get dragged away by the police while he got away with his unspeakable crimes. It was him, the man who killed Alyson Rydell and the others. He was the man who put Kit in here; and he was the man who put _me_ in here.

He was my husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my guess is that none of you saw that coming.
> 
> And if you did, well, _damn_ , props to you!
> 
> I know we still haven't heard Audrey's story yet. But I promise, it's coming. Possibly the next chapter? Stick around to find out!
> 
> And if you're a little confused about the whole Thredson thing, that should be cleared up in the next chapter as well.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Your reviews make my day, even if they're short and simple! Keep it up!


	8. Weak

My body trembled at the sight of him. My stomach churned, my head ached, my heart pumped as fast as it could go. It felt like time had stopped; like I had been standing there at the railing, staring at him for hours. Everything else in that shitty Asylum ceased – the noises, the smells, the motion going on around me. It was as if the entire place was blurred out, and the only focus was on him.

Johnny Davis, the handsome man whom I'd met at the malt shop; he had wooed me, charmed me, and made me fall in love with him. I even gave him a child, our beautiful little boy. Here I was, terrified of Kit, wondering if I had been associating myself with a maniac – meanwhile, I had been married to one.

Our eye contact remained strong as he walked up the spiral staircase. Lana started to panic; grabbing Kit and I by our sleeves. “He's coming! Come on, we have to leave!”

I planted my feet into the ground, feeling goosebumps form on my arms. The stare that once captured my heart was now mocking me, terrifying me.

He approached me, and I felt Kit protectively place his hands on my shoulders. I don't think that he knew what was actually happening between me and that man, but he sensed that something was up.

“Johnny?”

“It's Oliver, actually,” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “I guess I neglected to inform you of that.”

We stared at each other; the tension between us was absolutely skyrocketing. Kit pulled me back into him a little bit, and I felt his chest against my back. “What'd you do to her, Thredson?”

Johnny.... Er, Thredson, he looked up at Kit and raised both of his eyebrows instead of just one. He returned his gaze to me, chuckling softly. “Oh, she hasn't told you yet, Kit?” He laughed evilly, and I glared at him. He brought his attention upward towards Kit again, and he pet my head like I was a fucking dog. “I'm her husband.”

I couldn't see Kit's reaction, but I'm sure it was an interesting one. Lana stepped into us, eyeing the man down like he was some sort of insect that needed to be stepped on. “You sick son of a bitch.”

Thredson laughed again, shaking his head. “Oh, what, you _just_ figured that out, Lana? I thought maybe our little encounter would have been a dead giveaway.” He looked at his watch casually, pulling up the black sleeves of his expensive suit, and he let out an impatient sigh. “Well, I must be going. I have to meet with Sister Jude and Dr. Arden. There was a new patient admitted here yesterday; Sister Jude feels as though she is in need of my assistance. Apparently, she murdered her family,” he looked at me with those piercing eyes, and my blood boiled. “... And I think I have _just_ the right treatment.”

He pushed through us and sauntered down the dark hallway, and I watched him go until the outline of his silhouette blended with the dim light, and it was as if he disappeared. I turned my attention back to my two friends; and Kit spun me around so that he could look into my eyes.

“You're married to Thredson?”

I avoided his gaze; I was embarrassed, thrown off, and terrified. My life had been tossed into the trash – everything that I ever had, it all went to shit. Even the good times. I rubbed my eyes as Kit continued to look at me, searching for an answer.

“He wasn't Thredson when I knew him.”

Lana layed a hand upon my back, patting me gently, but she seemed uneasy. “Come on. We have to get out of here,” she whispered to me, and I hung my head down. I cried, I sobbed – I couldn't quite grasp the reality of what was happening; everything was falling apart at the seams. I felt as though I were becoming unhinged. Kit wrapped his arms around me again as Lana leaned into me, smoothing down my hair in a motherly-type manner. “He's gonna kill you. We have to go.”

We slipped down the stairs; luckily, Thredson was the only person standing by the railing, and he wasn't there anymore. We slid into a small corridor and made our way into the bowels of Briarcliff – they were dark, cold, and wet, it felt as though we were running through sewers. Suddenly, we came to a set of double doors, and Lana stopped leading us. She turned toward us; her face dimly lit by the only barred window at the other end of the hall, and she smiled. “The tunnel is right through here. Follow me... And be quick.”

Kit didn't have to hold me anymore, I finally regained some strength. Although I almost wished that he would hold me; I was still a blubbering mess. My heart was shattered, ruined, mistreated. And as much as I wanted to get out of this torture chamber; I realized that I had no place to go. Home just wasn't home anymore. It was a place of bad memories, of horror, of lies – and perhaps being there would be ten times worse than being here.

If I were by myself, I would have turned around and subjected to the agonizing and unspeakable torture of Briarcliff. I didn't care what happened to me at that point. I had nothing to live for. Everything I loved was gone. Really, really gone. I couldn't even hold memories in my mind to keep me going, it was all tainted.

But I knew that there were two innocent people with me that had something to go on for. Something to redeem, something to prove to somebody; they had reasons to fight. And even if they didn't, they still had the drive.

But I had nothing.

I trudged along with them as Lana pushed open the heavy doors to the death chute. She smiled, the look of triumph crossing her face as she took the first step into the dark hall; and as we made our way around the large metal bin attached to a track, we began running. I followed behind Lana – she was so determined, so strong, so motivated. I admired her. I wished that I had the drive that she possessed. I was weak. I gave up so easily, I was nothing more than dirt.

And Kit, he was strong, too. He was brave. He was heroic in his qualities, so protective and loyal. I wished that I could have been like him; I wish I could have protected my family, my life, and myself. I was weak. I gave up so easily, I was nothing more than dirt.

_I was weak. I gave up so easily. I was nothing more than dirt._

I focused my blurry vision on the tiny white dot appearing ahead of us. As our footsteps quickened, the dot got bigger and bigger; light was soon flooding into the tunnel, illuminating every scratch, crack, and hole in that murky old chute. A few more steps, and the hot August air hit each of our faces; and for a moment, all of my troubles faded away as I looked into the bright blue sky. The sun shined down on the three of us and we embraced it, holding our arms out as if we were soaring, and I felt a smile appear on my face.

Lana jumped into the air. “We're out! We made it!”

Kit cheered. He smiled, he laughed, and he looked up at the bright light in the sky. But suddenly, he turned to me. He grabbed me excitedly and pulled me into him; he held me tight to his chest, running his hand through my wavy hair, and he whispered to me, “I got you. Nothin's gonna happen to you anymore.”

And for a moment, I just wanted to cry. It wasn't a happy cry – it wasn't even a sad cry. I just wanted to cry.

He held me there and pulled Lana in, too. The three of us held on to each other for a minute or two, feeling a flood of emotions pour through us. We embraced tightly, and it reminded me of being home; it reminded me of how I felt when I would wake up from nightmares, and my sisters would come into the room. They would hold me, just like this, and they would tell me not to worry because my nightmare was over. And I would feel safe again.

But at this point, the nightmare would never end.

Our embrace was broken quickly by a small noise. “W-What are you doing out here?”

The three of us jumped, turning to see where the voice came from. The small, nervous nun stood in front of us with a bucket in hand; seemingly full of raw slop. It was the same nun that Sister Jude had condemned for failing to knock on her door before entering. Sister Mary-something, I couldn't remember. She stared at us wildly, transferring her eyes between the three of us.

“Sister, please, we needed some fresh air,” Kit said, taking his arms off of Lana and I. “We weren't goin' anywhere.” He looked at her with doe eyes, knowing that she was more than likely to believe his lie. She was so intimidated by anything and everything.

She looked back at us, blinking nervously. “W-Well I'm gonna have to go inside and tell Sister Jude, I don't think you're allowed to-”

“What's in the bucket, Sister?” Lana asked, with a look on her face that showed her cleverness. I had a feeling that she had something up her sleeve. The nun looked back at her, and she held the bucket behind her back, as though that would hide it. 

“It's... It's just some, uh-”

“Sure looks to me like you're _feeding_ something,” Lana said, dramatically looking around the woods. She looked at Kit and smirked. “Doesn't it look like she's feeding something, Kit?”

It took him a second, but he nodded, furrowing his brow. “Sure does. What're you up to, Sister Mary Eunice? We're curious.”

Ah, Mary Eunice. That's what it was. I watched her shuffle nervously, looking first at Kit, then at Lana. Her face became red with terror, and she broke. It didn't take much. “O-Okay, listen, if you all go back inside, I won't tell Sister Jude you were out here. Just please, please, don't say anything to her, okay? Please? I-I'm doing something for Dr. Arden. I can't tell anyone. Just... Just go back inside.”

Suddenly, something made a noise in the woods. It sounded like a growl; a snarl, but it wasn't from an animal. It almost sounded human.

Sister Mary Eunice opened her eyes wide in a panic. She looked at the three of us frantically, and pointed toward the tunnel. “Go, go now! Go!”

Lana, Kit and I simultaneously ran into the dark cave extending from Briarcliff, right where we came from. We stumbled over the broken tracks and pushed through the double doors, tripping over each other as we entered the dark asylum all over again. We ran up the hall, far away from the tunnel, and we soon realized that all of the guards were back in their stationed areas.

“Here we are, back to where we started,” Lana said, catching her breath. We walked up the hall a bit, avoiding the areas that were infested with staff. “Great. Just fuckin' great.”

Kit swallowed hard, resting his hands on his knees for a moment to gather himself back together. “Mary Eunice would have just tattled on us, anyway. They woulda found us and thrown us back in here. Probably in solitary or somethin'. They woulda whipped our asses, too.” He sighed. “It's better that we came back now, rather than later. They don't even know we were out there.”

Lana nodded, but I could tell that she was still frustrated. I didn't have much emotion toward the problem; like I said, I would have just subjected myself to the terrors of Briarcliff if we hadn't tried to escape.

The three of us walked to the Common Room, entering sluggishly and setting ourselves down on one of the old, ripped-up couches. That dreadful song pierced my ears again. Kit rested his head back on his shoulders, exhaling heavily. He looked really tired. Lana did too, and she looked more mentally drained than anybody here. It seemed as though she had been fighting since the moment she was put in here; but even though she looked tired, I had a feeling it wasn't gonna stop her any time soon.

She looked at the clock hanging at the top of the wall, over the door. “Shit,” she whispered, quickly standing from her spot on the couch. “I'm late. I was supposed to be in the kitchen a half hour ago. I thought we would have been out of this hellhole by now, I didn't take it under consideration.”

She chuckled, and gave Kit a pat on the shoulder. She looked at me and smiled; but her expression quickly changed. “Stay away from Thredson, okay? Kit and I will figure a way out of this, I promise you. We won't let him hurt you.” She placed a hand on my face, and she smiled mischievously. “We have his confession on tape. As soon as we get it out there, he'll be gone for good.”

She walked calmly out of the room, shutting the doors and leaving Kit and I alone on the couch. The Common Room was pretty much empty – a lot of people were in the kitchen, considering it was just about lunch time. I wasn't very hungry. Kit rested his eyes for a moment, letting his breathing pace itself; it was still a bit jagged from running. But it didn't take too long before he opened his eyes and smiled at me, and I felt myself retaliate.

His smile soon faded, and he sat up. The butterflies in my stomach returned as he looked at me for a moment or two, and he took a gentle hold of my trembling hand. He brought it up to his face and I felt his soft lips kiss the back of it; I didn't quite see it as a romantic gesture, but rather a gesture of affection – he cared for me. Whether or not it was romantic, I couldn't exactly figure out; but all I knew was that, whatever that feeling was, I felt the same way for him.

He lowered his hand, still holding mine within it, and he smiled. It was a sad smile, a sympathetic one; and I knew what his lips were about to do next.

He leaned into me, slowly, and it felt like I was waiting there for 10 minutes. My heart pumped, slamming against my rib cage, throwing everything in my body into a nervous flutter. Eventually, he looked into my eyes, and his lips moved, exactly in the way I had expected them to:

“Now can you tell me your story, Audrey?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You woulda thought that Kit was gonna kiss her!
> 
> Nah, not yet. Trust me, that will come. In time, in time.
> 
> But the wait is over, Audrey's story will be revealed in the next chapter. No interruptions, I promise. I know I've been taunting you with it.
> 
> I'm getting great feedback, I'm so happy you're all interested! Thank you for checking back with me for every chapter! You're all wonderful. Another one should be up tomorrow.


	9. Take Her Away

“I'm home, darling!”

I wiped my feet on the new 'welcome' mat that I had bought a few days before, and I dropped my keys into a small bowl sitting on the side table next to our front door.

“What a busy night. There were so many people, I could barely hear myself think.”

I walked into our cozy house, awaiting a response; but not a single sound occurred. I looked around curiously and cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Johnny?” I said, louder than I had originally intended, but there was still no answer.

That was strange; his car was parked out on the driveway. I knew he was home.

My eyes wandered to the living room, and I noticed that a half-empty baby bottle was sitting on top of the coffee table. It was the same bottle from when I fed my son this morning. I set it on the table before I left, and I told Johnny to feed him again at noon. Had he not fed the baby all day?

As I looked around, I noticed that everything was exactly the way I left it before I went to the malt shop this morning. Johnny hadn't touched a thing, which was very odd; he was a neat freak, constantly cleaning and washing things, even if they weren't dirty. 

I steadily walked through the house and glanced at the calendar hanging above Johnny's work desk. It was the 8th of August, a Saturday, and my sisters were supposed to come visit today. 

Something felt off to me. I brought my eyes away from the calendar on the wall and studied the house; the lights seemed dimmer, the floors seemed creakier, and the aura held something different – something hateful, something angry. I felt a rush of anxiety hit me.

“Johnny?” I called again, flicking on a lamp that sat on the desk. I turned around to face my front door, and I noticed 3 pairs of heels sitting along side it. My sisters must have gotten here earlier. Still, where was everybody? I called out for my sisters, hoping they would answer to me. “Betty? Marianne?” I looked down the dark hallway. “Cynthia?...Anyone?”

I gave up on waiting for answers and I started to walk slowly down the hall. The walls that once reflected the sun's bright rays off of their fresh ivory paint, were now swallowing the darkness and expelling an eerie vibe; chills ran down my spine and my heart fluctuated oddly as my quiet footsteps kept their steady pace. It was only 8 at night – yet it felt like it was 3 in the morning, and I had just woken from an uncomfortable sleep. I rounded the corner and stopped walking once I found myself standing on the outside of our bedroom door. I couldn't see well, considering the small area was only slightly illuminated; but as I looked down and reached a hand out to open the door, the dim luminescence was just bright enough for me to make out the red substance coating the silver doorknob.

I was confused for a moment, but my heart soon squeezed its way up into my throat. I noticed that the door wasn't even shut all the way. I closed my eyes for a moment and swallowed, I didn't know what I was going to walk into. I didn't want to see what was on the other side of that door; but my hand shook as I raised it up and placed it on the dark wood. I pushed the door open; and to my absolute horror, there was a gory massacre layed out in front of me: our white-carpeted bedroom was tainted with crimson stains, the light walls were splattered, speckled, and my sisters... My three beautiful, sweet sisters, they were spread out on top of our king-sized bed; all three of them with their slender throats slit from one side all the way to the other. I brought my gaze up; and there, standing behind the bed with a bloody kitchen knife clutched in his tight fist, stood my husband; with a twisted grin upon his wet, sticky face.

My stomach churned and I dropped to my knees, feeling my body go numb and my throat close. I was speechless, emotionless, I didn't know how to react. My evil husband chuckled at me, his button-up shirt parted carelessly, as he removed his glasses with his free hand and wiped his brow with his forearm. “So nice of you to join us, Audrey,” he said, his voice deep and chilling. “I was going to wait until you got home, but I just couldn't help myself.”

I looked back down at my three sisters. Marianne, my only older sister, she was so strong. She was 29, she was married, she was brave, and she was a fighter; always protecting me and my two younger sisters. Now, as I looked at her, she layed helpless – no longer fighting for herself, or anyone around her. I looked at her hands, and I noticed the blood underneath her long fingernails; and I knew that it wasn't hers. I looked back up at Johnny for a brief moment. There were deep, raw claw marks all over his chest. She tried to fight.

My watery eyes moved to Cynthia. She was 22, born only a year and a half after me, and we were always so close. She was loyal, loving, and sensible. She always knew how to rationalize; in fact, she was the only one in the family that knew how. She rarely fought with me, but when we did, she always came up with a compromise. Now, as I looked at her, she layed helpless – no longer resolving our conflicts, or being our mediator. I looked at her hands; even in death they were clasped together in a desperate plea. She never fought him back. She tried to talk him out of it.

And then I looked at Betty. My sweet baby sister, her throat cut open at the raw age of 15. She was shy, afraid, unsure and unaware of the world around her. She never stood up for herself; she took what came to her, regardless of whether she deserved it or not. She was pushed around, told what to do, and taken advantage of. We all stood up for her, protected her. Now, as I looked at her, she layed helpless – no longer crying into my arms for guidance, for help. I looked at her hands; they were open, laying still, and her pink underwear was bunched up around her ankles. She never fought back. She never tried to reason with him. She let him take advantage of her. She didn't try to do anything.

My stomach was in knots as I took in the awful sight of my dead sisters. I couldn't breathe, it felt as though there was an anvil on my chest. I looked at Johnny, terrified, tears running down my cheeks. I couldn't get a word out. “W-What have you done?”

He just chuckled malevolently at my grief, and he set the bloody knife down on our white bedspread, right next to my sisters' heads. “Audrey, my sweet girl. I've made our lives _so_ much easier. Now we're completely alone, just the two of us. Forever.”

I sobbed for a moment or two, covering my eyes from the gruesome sight in front of me. His words rang in my mind; and something caught my attention. I brought my eyes back to the man standing in front of me and my heart jumped from my throat to the pit of my stomach. “J...Just the _two_ of us?”

“Yes. Just you and me.”

I clutched my heart in horror. “You mean...” I almost got sick, right there on the floor. I grabbed at my chest and gasped. “Oh, God...”

I jumped up from the carpet and turned to face the door. I pushed it open slowly; but soon I picked up my movements. My feet clumsily hit the hardwood floor as I ran down the hall, and I threw open the door to my son's nursery. 

I stared at his little white crib next to the windowsill. I didn't want to walk in any further; I didn't want to see my sweet baby boy with his throat cut open. I couldn't bear it. But I forced myself to take a step in. My other foot followed, and I crept toward the little white crib; my heart screamed and my stomach knotted up, my eyes filled with tears and my body was shaking with fear and anxiety; and when I peered over the bars, I saw my little angel sleeping peacefully.

With a clear plastic bag over his head, tied tightly with a rope around his neck.

“No...” I whispered, my voice cracking, my knees giving out. I scooped my sweet boy up into my arms; his head hung limp as I pulled the bag off of him. “Oh, _God_! No!” I yelled, clutching him, holding him tight to my chest, my body wracking with sobs. I looked into his little blue face, that beautiful face that I carried with me for 9 long months; the face that I fell in love with the second the doctors handed him to me. I waited so long to see that handsome little face. My heart was broken. I wanted to die. I wanted to fucking die, I wanted so badly for my husband to come in with an AK-47 and blow my brains out of the side of my skull. I fell to the ground, still holding my son, and I wept into his tiny, soft chest.

Johnny came into the room and leaned up against the door frame. “Don't worry. If it makes you feel any better, he went peacefully. He was already asleep when I put the bag on him.”

I picked my head up and looked at my husband, still holding the limp baby in my arms. “How could you do this? Christ! What have you done? Why did you... What... My sisters, my baby! _Our_ baby! John, what have you-!” I couldn't breathe. I couldn't catch my breath. I felt like I had just ran a 10 mile race without stopping; like someone had taken a vacuum and sucked the air right out of my lungs, and I struggled so hard to get it back. I felt numb; yet at the same time, every emotion going through my body made me cry out in pain – having your limbs ripped off would feel like a cat scratch compared to this. I had lost the things most important to me: my sisters, my baby... And my husband. I looked up at him and sobbed, “Are you gonna kill me?”

He laughed again. “No. Not yet, anyway.”

“Please,” I begged, burying my face in my baby again. “Please, Johnny.”

Suddenly, I heard sirens outside of my house. Red and blue lights soon flooded into our dark abode, and I continued to sit there, clutching my son, as if my touch would bring him back to life. Johnny looked out the window and smirked. “Ah. Just in time.”

“They're gonna throw you in the electric chair!” I yelled angrily. “You... You're a monster! You're evil, You... You killed my family, just..” I couldn't pull my thoughts together. It was like someone had shaken up my brain and mixed everything I had ever known into one big mess. I screamed. All I wanted was my family back. I wanted to see them. “Kill me, John. Please, just kill me. Or I'll do it myself!”

“Nobody's gonna kill you, not even yourself. I called the police,” he walked closer to me and leaned down so that he was in my face. “They're gonna take you _away_.”

I was confused. “W-whaa-?”

Johnny pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and placed his glasses back onto his face. “Let's see. On August 8th 1964, you came home from a tough night at work to find all three of your sisters taking turns having sex with your your husband. You snapped; and in a rage, you grabbed a kitchen knife and slit all 3 of their throats. When your husband panicked and told you he was going to call the police, you threatened him with the life of your newborn son. He ran into the nursery, only to find that you had already asphyxiated your baby hours before. Once he finally called the police, you shot him in the leg. You murdered your sisters, suffocated your baby, and mutilated your husband; and according to Briarcliff, those are all perfectly acceptable reasons to be admitted.”

I stared at him wildly, tears streaming down my face. What was he trying to say? “I... I didn't kill my sisters. I didn't kill my baby!” I looked down at his legs. “And nobody shot you in the leg!”

Suddenly, he pulled a handgun out of the back of his pants; he aimed it down at himself and pulled the trigger. The loud noise made me scream and shut my eyes – Johnny screamed, too, out of absolute agony. I opened my eyes and gasped in horror.

“Ah, _fuck_!” He bellowed. “Ssss. Ah!”

Blood squirted forcefully out of the bullet wound in his calf, and he smiled devilishly as the red liquid coated his hands. He looked at me and winced in pain, tossing the gun down at my feet, and he talked through his teeth. “You're in some... Big trouble, Audrey.”

Suddenly, a loud bang came from my living room. My heart pounded as I heard keys jingling, guns loading, and men yelling. “It's the police! Everybody freeze!”

They busted through the door in the nursery and aimed their guns down at me, sitting helplessly, holding my dead son, sobbing. Johnny held his leg and screamed. So much was happening all at once, I thought I was going to faint. 

Two men came in and placed my husband on a stretcher, carrying him out of the house. Two other men stayed at the doorway of the nursery, continuing to hold their guns pointed at me. “Set the boy down, ma'am.”

I cried, and my grip just got tighter. “N-no, please, you don't understand-”

“I said set the boy _down_ , ma'am!”

“I-I didn't do any of this! Please, please. You have to listen to me-!” The police officer lowered his gun and charged at me with his arms out. He grabbed my baby out of my arms, and the other man ran up behind me, cuffing my hands behind my back. My heart slammed against my chest and I wailed. “No! No, my baby!”

“He ain't your baby no more. He's dead, you killed him. You're coming with us.”

“You don't understand, let me go!” I screamed, puling out of the cops' grip. “Please! You have to listen-”

“Audrey Davis, you're under arrest for the murder of Marianne Wallace, Cynthia Holden, Betty Holden, and Michael Davis-”

“I didn't-!”

“... You will be treated as a patient at Briarcliff Manor-”

“I'm not crazy-!”

“... Until your case is approved-”

“My sweet sisters-!”

“... And you are proven fit to stand trial-”

“My boy! He killed our baby boy-!”

“... If decided otherwise, you will spend the rest of your days-”

“Why would he do this-”

“... As a patient in Briarcliff Manor's mental institution.”

“Please, just kill me! Put me in the chair-!”

“... Take her away, boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I took so long to update! My birthday was a few days ago and I had a huge party. All of my time was consumed. But now I'm back to late nights and nothing but free time.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Now you understand what Audrey went through. I decided to write it out as a scene, opposed to her just telling her story out loud to Kit. There was much more emotion this way.
> 
> Don't worry, Kit will be in the next chapter. This one was a bit of a flashback.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, the kudos, and the hits! You guys are great!


	10. Invigorated

I hung my head down and stared at the wine colored couch, and it reminded me of all that blood. I didn't want to look Kit in the eye, I was too embarrassed. I choked on a sob and covered my face with my shaking hands; all that emotion came pouring back to me.

Kit quickly grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into his warm, comforting chest; he rubbed my back in large circles, and he whispered softly in my ear. “Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that happened to you,” He sniffed, and I heard him getting a bit emotional. “I can't imagine... Oh, Audrey, it's gonna be okay. I promise, I'll make things right for you, okay?”

I wept on his shoulder, his sweet voice comforted me. Even when I fell in love with Johnny, or Thredson, whoever the fuck he was, I never felt this safe around him. There was always a sense of falseness, a front that he would put up; but I just figured it was just the way he was. I should have listened to my gut.

Kit was so different, in so many ways. I couldn't exactly put my finger on it, but he was special.

I wept for my three beautiful sisters. I wept for my sweet baby. I wept for the man I thought my husband was. I wept for the girl inside me that died that night, along with my family. Kit just kept quiet and rubbed my back, letting me soak his shirt with my tears. I didn't want to be at Briarcliff anymore. I didn't want to be home. I just wanted to die; to escape this cold, uncaring world, to be reunited with my family, to finally be free.

Kit pulled me off of him, gently, and looked into my puffy face. His eyes were black like the midnight sky; and I couldn't quite tell where his pupil ended and where his iris started. It all blended together in some sort of hypnotizing serenity. He caressed the side of my face and leaned in, touching his lips lightly to my forehead. My heart swelled and I smiled sadly, curling up into him again, pressing my ear to his chest. It felt so good to be held.

I listened to his heartbeat. It was slow and steady, and it relaxed me. I sucked in a shaky breath, feeling my lungs fill up with the air that I had been missing since that horrible night, and I shut my eyes for a moment. “Kit?”

His chest rose a bit, then vibrated against my ear. “Hmm?”

I let out the breath of air that I took in. “I'm not crazy, right?”

I felt him smile a little, even though I wasn't looking at him. I heard it in his voice. “No, hun, you're not.”

I thought for a moment, and I blinked; more tears fell from my eyes. “So I'm going to trial, then?”

Kit paused. The smile disappeared off of his face, and he sighed. “I dunno, Audrey. It's up to them to decide.”

I hid my face in his shirt again. “What happens if I do?”

Kit pulled me closer. “Then I'll be there with you.”

I opened my eyes even though I was still pressed against his warm chest. “What?”

Kit was quiet for a moment. “I'll be with you.”

I pulled out of his embrace and looked into his face again. His eyes were filled with adoration, with loyalty – dare I say 'love'? I don't know, that's a term to use pretty loosely in a mental institution. But then again, anything is possible in this place. Anything but escaping, that is. “You'll be with me?”

He nodded, smoothing down one of my waves that went awry. “I'm not lettin' Thredson get away with anything. He hurt you, an' he hurt me too,” his eyes became a bit glassy, but he quickly ran a sleeve over them, and they returned to normal. “Neither of us will go to the chair. Neither of us did it.”

I studied his face. “But we don't have proof, Kit. He doesn't even go by the same name anymore,” I looked back down at the dark colored couch. “I'm not even sure which one is his real one.”

Kit looked over at the door, and it opened up to reveal the little pinhead; excitedly hurrying through the double doors and over to her seat. Lunch must have been ending soon. Kit looked back at me and lowered his voice a bit. “Lana has a recording, remember? We just gotta figure out a way to get it to the police,” he whispered, raising his eyebrows. “I promise, Audrey. I'll be with you, no matter what. I'm gonna help you get the justice you deserve.”

I smiled at him, genuinely, for the first time in what felt like days. He smiled back, his dimples creating small indents in his cheeks; and it made my heart flutter a bit. He really was the sweetest little thing. “Thank you,” I responded, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “That means a lot to me, Kit.”

He bowed his head, respectfully, as a gentleman would. He was the only thing in this whole asylum that kept me from completely losing it. Lana, too; she was a wonderful lady. She reminded me of Marianne in a lot of ways. 

I looked around the Common Room again, and a few more people entered through the doors. Kit matched my gaze, and he took my hand into his; rubbing my palm in a small circular motion. He watched the patients flood in and take to their normal spots, and soon, he looked back at me. “Audrey...”

I raised my eyebrows at the sweet boy as my name spilled off of his tongue. “Yeah?”

He raised his brow back at me and cleared his throat awkwardly, and he let go of my hand to rub the back of his neck. “What do you say we go somewhere a little quieter, huh? This song,” he paused, pointing up into the atmosphere, “It's drivin' me crazy, y'know?”

I smiled a little, nodding my head. “Sure, Kit.”

The both of us stood up from the couch; and Kit gently layed a hand on my back to guide me out of the Common Room. As we walked out, I turned back to face him. “Where do you wanna go?”

Kit sighed, yet at the same time, a smile graced his face. “I dunno,” he mumbled, looking both ways as we entered the hallway. For whatever reason, it always felt as though we were sneaking around; like we could get in trouble at any moment. Then again, they'll throw you in solitary for the littlest things. Kit took the initiative and walked in front of me, holding his hand out for me to grab. He stopped for a second before continuing down the hall, and he looked at me; his eyes barely showing through the dark corridor. “Hydrotherapy Room's probably empty.”

I looked back at him and smiled nervously. The Hydrotherapy Room? I've only been in there once during my first day here at Briarcliff, and I didn't really feel like going back. But I let Kit hold my hand and lead me there; although my heart was just about ready to beat right out of my chest.

We were a bit far from the room, but we eventually made our way there. We passed some guards but none of them really seemed interested in where we were going, which I guess was considered a good sign. Once we finally got there, Kit looked around cautiously and peered through the foggy window to see if anyone was inside.

“I think we're good,” he whispered, opening the door and giving me a gentle push inside. I stumbled into the room a bit and looked around. It was still hot and steamy from the last session that took place, but it relaxed me a bit. I was so used to being in the cold, damp air; it felt kind of nice to be in a bit of humidity.

I took a few steps in and walked toward the middle of the room, and I heard the door being latched shut by Kit standing behind me. I kept walking for a moment, staring out of the high window to the outside, and I sighed. “ _Oh_ , what I wouldn't give to just escape this shitty place for a while-”

Suddenly, I felt a pair of hands slide onto my waist from behind; and my heartbeat stopped for a second. I felt him rest his lips on my shoulder, kissing me lightly. I was rigid for a moment; I didn't exactly know what was happening, but I soon relaxed in his grip, as I felt him whisper into my ear. “Then why don't I _help_ you escape for a little while?”

Nervously, I turned to face him. He kept his hands on my waist as I moved my body in his direction; and soon I was looking into his eyes again, shivering under the touch of his soft, warm hands. “W...What do you mean, Kit?”

He smiled sensually, and I thought I was going to faint. He was so, so beautiful. “Oh, I don't know. I just...” He looked down at the space between our bodies for a moment, before he gently pulled me into him; our bodies touched, gently pushing against each other, as I kept my gaze up toward his handsome face. “You're such a sweetheart. I hate seeing you in pain... I wanna get you outta here. I wanna take care of you.”

He brought a hand up from my waist to touch my cheek, caressing it for a quick moment, before moving it back underneath my messy hair. “Audrey,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. I raised my eyebrows at him, feeling my heart rate increase. His breath shuddered for a moment, as though his body was trembling, but it wasn't. He was as still as a statue. “Is it alright if I...” He brought his head down, lowering himself, staring at my lips. “If I, just-”

He closed the gap between our faces, pressing his sweet lips against mine, and I let him. I shut my eyes and took in all of the emotion, as his one hand held my head from falling back onto my shoulders; and his other, pressing on my hip, pulled me even further into him. My heart swelled, exploded, shouted out, and all was right with the world. All was right with my life.

He kissed me slowly, passionately; with more emotion than I had ever imagined coming out of someone. Just the simple act of touching our lips together, it brought us to a whole new level of connection. Sparks flew; not only in my heart, but in my mind – and everything suddenly made sense again.

He pulled his head away from mine, and our lips stuck together until they simply could not reach anymore. We opened our eyes and looked at each other with such intensity, and I felt the sweet boy curl and uncurl his fingers against the nape of my neck. He smiled – that sweet, sensitive, loving smile that made my knees go weak, and I returned it.

“I'm – I'm sorry,” he stuttered, taking his hand off of my waist to run it through his hair, and hide his pink cheeks. “I just... I don't know what got into me.”

I reached up and took his hand out of his soft brown hair; placing it back on my waist. I kept my hand on top of his and lightly ran my fingers across it. “No, don't be sorry, Kit.”

He smiled at me, his pink cheeks fading, and I looked down at his shirt. I felt sheepish, yet empowered at the same time. I took both of my hands and placed them on his chest; I felt his heavy heartbeat thumping under my delicate fingers. The steam in the room seemed to be disappearing; yet at the same time, I felt like it was getting so much harder to breathe.

I brought my eyes back up to his, which were twinkling with adoration. He kept a nervous grin plastered onto his face; and I couldn't help but grin back. He licked his lips and sighed, looking down at my hands resting on his covered chest. “You're wonderful, Audrey. An' you don't deserve what happened to you.” 

Tears threatened to sting the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them. It was incredibly strange; the feelings that were brewing inside me were growing, and I wasn't sure exactly what they were. I didn't know if this thing I had for Kit was just because he was the first boy to show me kindness, or if I actually was beginning to fall for him. Either way, he was the only one to have ever made me feel this way, including my own (ex) husband. I smiled to myself and began tracing patterns on Kit's chest with my fingers. “You're wonderful too, Kit. We both didn't deserve what came to us. But now,” I paused, pushing my tears to the back of my eyes again, and I breathed in quickly. “... Now I understand why we were both thrown in here.”

Kit's eyes darted all over my face, and an emotional grin spread across his cheeks. He nodded. “I think I know why, too.”

He kissed me again, holding me against him, and his body shook; his hands trailed up from my waist and he placed both of his palms on the sides of my head, holding me in place against his mouth. He moved his lips in sync with mine, tenderly, lovingly, and he pulled away again, his dimples making craters in his cheeks, after a moment or two of kisses.

I looked at my hands resting on his chest again, and I began to move them. I rubbed them against him firmly, putting pressure on his torso; I watched his eyebrows raise up and his eyelids flutter with pleasure. His body relaxed, and he let out a breathy sigh. “You... Your hands feel good,” he mumbled, his voice deep and low, almost inaudible. His eyes slid shut and he smirked. “That feels _really_ good.”

I shuttered a bit, his voice gave me the chills. I never quite heard him sound that way before. I continued to rub my hands on his chest, and he began to let his hands wander across my torso. He ran them over my hip bones, my back, my waist – and I began to melt under his touch. Suddenly, he opened his eyes; looking at me for a moment, and his cheeks changed their shade again. He looked downward at himself, and naturally, my eyes traveled to his denim pants.

He cleared his throat a bit, nervously, and I noticed that his jeans were bulging in a certain area. He kept his gaze down for a moment before he took a hand off of my back; and he grabbed himself awkwardly, trying to adjust his position in his pants. He looked back up at me and shook his head with a shy smile, furrowing his brow in embarrassment. “Shit,” he mumbled.

“Don't be embarrassed,” I said softly, and I felt myself getting aroused. He barely even had to try, he was just so handsome; just looking at him turned me into a mess. “It's alright.”

Kit looked away sheepishly for a moment; but he returned his gaze to me, and his look was changing. He pressed his forehead to mine, wrapping his arms around me, and he pulled me into him; suddenly, I felt myself being pressed against what was growing in his jeans. “Oh, now you got me goin', Audrey,” he growled, and I felt myself getting hot. He kissed me a third time; yet it was different, he was hungry – rough, firm, and intense.

His hands slid all over my back and soon made their way to the front of my waist. I struggled to keep up with his quick lips, moving ravenously and sensually; when I felt his hand traveling down my thigh. My heart pounded against my rib cage. I couldn't believe this was happening. Was this actually happening? Or was Dr. Arden's poisonous injection still making me hallucinate?

Oh, this was _far_ from a hallucination. Kit's soft hands pulled the hem of my dress upward, and soon slid in between my thighs; and I just about screamed with pleasure.

He was rough, yet gentle; rubbing and petting and pleasuring. I threw my head back against my shoulders as he worked me, and worked me good; but as I picked my head back up and looked down, I noticed that he was about ready to bust right through his pants.

I took my hand that wasn't raking through Kit's hair, and I tucked my fingers into the waistband of his underwear. I slid my hand in and out, teasing him for a few moments, until I felt his fingers begin to move a bit sloppy in between my legs. He moaned, frustrated, and he slipped his hand out from underneath my dress to grab himself again. “Oh, c'mon, sweetheart. Don't you tease me like that.” I smirked at him, knowing that I was driving him crazy, and I gave him a kiss before pumping my hand in and out of his boxers again. I felt him stiffen, and he threw his head back. “Mm, _fuck_ , Audrey,” he barked, beginning to touch himself from the outside of his pants. He rubbed up and down with his hand, moaning softly, before picking his head back up to look at me with a sexy smile. “Look, now you're makin' me touch myself.”

I let out a breathy sigh, a smile creeping up on me. “Mm,” I said, placing my hand on top of his, guiding his hand up and down. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and shoved it into his pants; and I felt him – all of him. I felt around again, sliding my hand all over his member, touching him, feeling him, wanting him.

I heard a needy growl from deep within his chest. “Oh, _God_ ,” he furrowed his brow, shivering under my touch. I kept rubbing him for a few moments; and his knees started to shake.

I licked my lips, staring down at my hand inside of his jeans. “Kit,” I sighed, and he opened his eyes to look at me. I sighed again, and I felt myself getting extremely turned on, more than I already was. “Y-Your boxers are _so_ wet.”

I don't know why I stated the obvious; I think I was just really nervous. He smiled back at me with a sultry expression, and he let his head roll back onto his shoulders again. “Mm, that's 'cause you're makin' me so crazy!”

Suddenly, he took a few steps forward, guiding me backwards towards the window. He pushed me up against it, shoving himself against me, and he began unbuttoning his pants. He dropped his drawers and hiked my leg up onto one of the tubs; and soon, he began thrusting into me.

He nestled his head against my bosom, letting his lips trail across my collarbone; and with every thrust, he moaned into my skin. Over and over, he pushed in and pulled out – slowly at first, then speeding up with every time he rocked his hips into mine.

“Kit,” I purred, feeling his speed and power increase. My head slammed against the pipes jetting out of the wall every time he jerked himself into me, and it hurt; but I felt way too good to tell him to stop. “Oh, _Kit_!”

I panted, grabbing at his sweaty hair, and I noticed that the room was getting steamy again. He panted too, exhaling every time he pumped in and out; and within the next few minutes, he started to shake.

“Audrey, I'm-” he breathed out, furrowed his brow, clenched his teeth, “I-I'm gonna-”

He grabbed at my hair, pulling on it as he rammed himself inside of me, harder and harder. I almost cried out in pain; but I bit my lip to stop it. I felt myself beginning to build up – the harder Kit reeled into me, the more pressure I felt forming in my abdomen. “Don't... Stop,” I moaned between his thrusts, and Kit squeezed his eyes shut, still clenching his teeth, and I just about lost it.

“Shit, Audrey, I'm... I-I'm about to-”

He rocked his hips into me again and his body suddenly stiffened; he let out a deep groan as his muscles contracted violently, and the orgasm racked through his body. I felt him shoot inside of me and I returned the favor, feeling a release of pressure that spread from my core, all the way to my fingers and toes.

We stood there against the wall, shaking, uneven breaths hitting against our hot, sweaty skin; and I felt so invigorated. So new, so free.

I couldn't believe that just happened.

Kit pulled himself out of me, limp and dripping from both of our excitement, and he tucked himself back into his pants before looking back at me with a tired smile. “I, uh...” He ran a hand through his hair. “We should probably be gettin' back to our rooms, now.”

I nodded, “Good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have too much to say about this one, hahaha, it's pretty self explanatory.
> 
> Audrey and Kit are getting pretty involved, though. So we'll see how that plays out.
> 
> Thanks for the reads and the reviews. Another chapter will be up soon!


	11. Treatment: Part I

My eyes fluttered open; my lids felt heavy, tired, and the small amount of light in the room was the bright sun fighting it's way through the frosted glass, the only reason that I knew it was morning. I stretched, letting the bones in my body crackle from their overnight stiffness, and I yawned.

Here I was, in the same spot I had been waking up in what felt like 10 years. In this shitty little cell, on this shitty little bed, in this shitty little place.

Except, this morning, I wasn't feeling so shitty.

I looked around the room again. The grey, concrete walls seemed whiter, the hard, stained mattress seemed softer, and my dreary, desolate mood seemed happier. I felt hopeful, loved, and protected. And really, really sore.

But that didn't matter. What happened between Kit and I yesterday was something that happens between a lot of people; sometimes out of love, sometimes out of lust, sometimes even out of hate. And I wasn't exactly sure what it meant for the two of us, but what I _do_ know, shows that it brought us together in a way that I couldn't really explain.

Like I said, it was strange. I had sex with my husband; obviously, we had a child together. But it was never so pure and innocent as this. It was never emotional, or tender – it seemed so rushed, so glamorized, and it felt so fake. I tried to immerse myself in it; I would close my eyes and moan his name, but I always found myself thinking about things completely unrelated, or even unimportant. Things that didn't even make sense. I loved him, I loved him to death, but we were never so close.

But with Kit, _oh_ , with _Kit_ , I was completely hypnotized. He was beautiful, and loving, and gentle; his kisses were airy and light – yet when he was aroused, they became deep and passionate, enduring, romantic, and I had never felt anything like it.

He was special, alright. And I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but he was. I was enamored, taken back, head over heels. The day I walked into this place, I was alone; thrown away to rot, cheated out, lied to, betrayed. I was handcuffed, exposed, and all of my hope was gone. Then some crazy bastard tried to choke me to death and I had no way to defend myself. And as if God himself had sent an angel down to Earth to save me, this sweet boy shows up. All the pain that I had gone through, he turned it into dirt; and he planted flowers right in that same soil. I never had anybody do that for me – not in my entire life.

I rolled the thin quilt down to the foot of my bed as I sat up, and I took in a deep breath. Whatever challenges I had to face today, I knew I would be able to trudge through them; and only because of Kit Walker. It sounds cliché, but I swear, that's how I felt.

For once, during my horrible stay at Briarcliff Manor, I felt powerful. I felt determined. I felt in control. I felt-

“Miss Davis.”

I looked toward the small cut out square in my heavy metal door. Between the bars, I recognized a woman's face. A woman who I had not necessarily gotten along with very well. The door's locks unlatched, and it swung open; hitting the wall with a loud bang. 

“Oh, good, you're up. Your treatment starts today, Miss Davis.”

I cocked an eyebrow, feeling the power draining out of my system. “Treatment?”

Sister Jude smiled falsely, just as she always does. “Your therapy sessions. I have you scheduled for a few things that I believe will help cure your illness.”

I stared at her, and I felt my palms starting to sweat. “What illness?”

The nun laughed as she adjusted her habit. “Our psychiatrist, Dr. Thredson, he has diagnosed you with Schizophrenia.”

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. “No, no no no, you can't let him, Sister-”

“I can, and I did,” she said, her low voice echoing through my room. She turned toward the hallway, preparing to walk out. “Your session today is in the Electroshock Therapy Room. I will have him come get you in about 10 minutes-”

“Sister, no!” I yelled, backing up against my headboard as if he were already coming for me. “No, you can't! You don't understand! Thredson is-”

“Oh, don't you worry, my child,” she said, condescending, almost mocking me. “I promise, we're going to fix you right up.”

“No, wait-!”

The door slammed shut behind her, and I heard the locks turn. This can not happen! Not today, not ever. I knew that if he got me into that Electroshock Therapy Room that I would not be coming out of it. I leaped out of bed and peeked out of the small window, and I realized that there was nobody in the hallway anymore.

I banged on the door with my fists, making loud noises, jiggling the knob to the door. “Help!” I yelled, desperately trying to get someone's attention. “I need to get out of here!”

Why was I even trying? I knew that nobody was going to come for me. But I was determined, and I kept at it. “Please, someone!” I jumped up and kicked the metal door, in hopes of knocking one of the locks loose. “Kit! Lana!”

Anything, anything, but being alone in a therapy room with Thredson. He was the most dangerous person here. Where the fuck was that tape of his confession? Had Lana gotten it out?

“Someone, please!” I yelled. “Get me out of here, please!”

I knew that Thredson had something planned for me. Whatever it was, I didn't really feel like finding out. I stared out of the cutout in my door in hopes of making some sort of eye contact with someone who could help me. After a few minutes of looking around desperately, I saw Sister Mary Eunice standing at the end of the corridor. I stuck my fingers through the small opening, wiggling them frantically.

“Sister! Sister, please, I need your help!”

The poor woman jumped a mile at my sudden cry, but she looked over at my cell. She didn't move any closer to my room, in fear that I was calling her over to trick her. She was so paranoid and nervous. “W-What do you need?”

“Look,I-I know this sounds crazy, but you have to believe me. Sister Jude assigned Dr. Thredson as my psychiatrist, but he wants to kill me. You have to keep him away,” I said, nearly running out of breath. “He's – He's my ex husband, he murdered my family!”

The nun raised her eyebrows at me as she took a few steps closer than she was before. “Oh, dear. Your condition is worse than we thought.”

I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn't quite see me. “No, Sister, I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me. I didn't kill anyone. It was all Thredson – I can prove it!”

Suddenly, I heard the double doors to the hallway open. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, and I knew who was walking in.

“Good morning, Sister.”

“Good morning, doctor.”

“Have you talked to Miss Davis about her treatment?”

“No, but Sister Jude has. I'm afraid she's getting worse.”

“Oh, don't worry. After today, she'll be on the path to recovery.”

I backed away from the door, and I felt a chill running up and down my spine. I wanted to scream, to kick, to absolutely lose my sanity; but I knew that would just make matters worse. I heard his heavy footsteps; and soon, the locks on my door were turning. I heard my heart beating in my ears. The door pushed open with a creak, and there he was; standing in front of me in a black suit, his hair slicked back, and his thick-framed glasses pushed high up on the bridge of his nose. 

“Ah, Audrey,” he said with a smile. “How'd you sleep?”

I stared at him, and I could have sworn I was shooting lasers through my pupils. I didn't answer to him; I just glared into his dark, piercing eyes. His vicious smile chilled me to the bone.

I needed to speak. I needed to stand up for myself for once in my shitty life. I was so used to hiding in the shadows; being passive, taking shit that I didn't deserve. Either way, Thredson was going to torture me – might as well go out strong.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

He laughed. “I figured you might say that. That's why I have two guards coming down to strap you in a straitjacket.”

I raised my eyebrows at him and returned the laugh; normally, I would have cried and begged him not to. I still wanted to fall apart, but I refused to let myself. “You're a monster, John.”

He shook his head and furrowed his thick brow. “Actually,” he smirked, “That'd be you, darling.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, taking a step closer to him. He rolled his eyes and sneered in my direction.

“Because I can,” he answered, plain and simple. “Now, if you'll be so kind as to follow me, we will begin your therapy now, Audrey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is on the shorter side, so there will be a part 2 coming next.
> 
> Audrey is starting to feel a bit braver. With Kit being her inspiration, of course.
> 
> Hope you're enjoying! Thanks for the reads and the comments!


	12. Path To Recovery: Part II

It was dark. It was cold. It smelled of sweat, fear, and anxiety; and the small, uncomfortable-looking bed was made up, just for me.

Thredson pushed me into the room, and I stumbled in; keeping my distance from his reach, fearing that he would shove me onto the ground. The straitjacket obviously restricted my arms, and I didn't feel like face-planting into the concrete floor. 

I looked over at the array of machinery set on the wall, next to the bed. It looked like something you would see in the movie _Frankenstein_. Something that brought someone to life; or in this case, killed them.

I turned back toward the sick man standing before me, and he smiled in a twisted, villainous manner. He gestured toward the bed; nodding politely, and adjusting his glasses with his other hand. “Please, have a seat.”

I stood in that same spot, never budging a millimeter. “No.”

He raised his thick, dark eyebrows at me and bowed his head a bit. “Getting a bit rebellious, are we?”

I raised my eyebrows right back at him. “Yeah, well, when you're stuck in this shithole, you don't really have a choice.”

Thredson laughed. “How unlike you,” he said, walking around me. I spun on my heels in order to keep my eyes locked on him, and he stopped at the machinery by the bed. “Maybe it was a bad idea putting you in here.”

“Oh?” I said, cocking a brow. “And why's that?”

He chuckled. “You're becoming brave.”

Oh, hearing that, it gave me so much power. I was so used to being frightened, nervous, weak. And now I feel strong, and proud. “Starting to regret it?” I asked, my face as straight as an arrow. Thredson shook his head, grabbing the electrodes sitting on top of the machine.

“No, not in the slightest. You know why?”

I didn't answer. He smiled again, evilly.

“Because your little treatment here,” he held up the electrode, giving it a slight shake, “... Will shock the brave right out of you.”

I looked at him, and I already felt myself becoming weaker. He set the electrode on the machine again.

“We can do this one of two ways. You can cooperate,” he said, grabbing a jar of goo off of the tray next to the bed, stirring it with a popsicle stick, “... _Or_ , I can hold you down and force you through it. Now, I would prefer the latter, but it's all up to you.”

I looked at the gooey substance coating the end of the popsicle stick, and it made me nauseous. I sucked it up and looked back up at my ex husband. “You're going to have to do a lot better than _that_.”

“Oh, believe me,” he snorted, “We're just getting started, Audrey.”

I stayed standing in that spot, right in the middle of the room, and I watched Thredson continue to stir the goo. I wasn't quite sure what it was for, but whatever it was, I didn't really wanna find out. “So what are you gonna do, electrocute me?”

Thredson smirked, and he set the jar down on the tray. He clasped his hands together as he waited for me to voluntarily sit down on the bed; but I still didn't move. He sighed. “Electroshock therapy is a procedure in which electric currents are passed through the brain, intentionally triggering a brief seizure. It causes changes in brain chemistry that can quickly reverse symptoms of certain mental illnesses. In your case, Schizophrenia.”

I wanted to rip my hands right out of that straitjacket and strangle the bastard. “You know _damn_ well that your little diagnosis is bullshit,” I bellowed, taking a step toward him. He held his hands up in the air, sarcastically surrendering. 

“You're right, Audrey, I _do_ know that,” he said, nodding his head. He lowered his hands and leaned in, slipping me that coy smile that I wanted to smack right off of his goddamn face. “... But nobody else does, sweetheart.”

He quickly turned to the door and whistled; and before I could blink, three guards came rushing in at full force. 

“Hey! Wait, no!” I yelled as they pushed me onto the bed. They stripped me of the straitjacket, which was a relief; but in place of that, they strapped me down violently and tightly against the uncomfortable bed. I kicked them, trying to throw them off of me, but it didn't work.”Let me go! Get off of me!”

Thredson just stood along side of the bed with his hands clasped behind his back; smiling pleasantly, and it made me sick to my stomach. “I told you that I would prefer the latter.”

“Ow! Ow, ow!” I yelped as one of the men accidentally pinched my skin in the buckles of the bonds. “Help! Help me, please! Let me go!”

“You're not going anywhere, Audrey,” my ex husband snarled, moving behind me. He took the popsicle stick sitting in the jar and rubbed the clear goo onto my temples.

“What... What is that?” I yelled, still trying to squirm and kick my way out of the straps. Two of the men held my shoulders down on each side, hurting me with their pressure. The third walked around behind me while Thredson cleared his throat.

“It's the conductor. Without it, your skin would just fry,” he explained, but then he smirked. “Come to think of it, I should have just kept it off.”

Suddenly, the man behind me began shoving something into my mouth. I gagged on it; part of it was going halfway down my throat, and I wanted to throw up. It tasted like rubber and cleaning products. My screams became muffled, and I feared that this was going to be the end of me. Nobody would hear my cries for help. 

I yelled Kit's name. I screamed it, I bellowed it, I repeated it over and over until my voice was hoarse. Thredson turned the machine on; and I heard the dreaded whirring of the current warming up. He grabbed the electrodes off of the top of the machine and handed them to the guard next to him; and at the same time, he turned the knob almost halfway up the gauge.

“Since you've been getting a little brave lately, I might need to up the voltage,” Thredson snickered, placing his hand on the lever of the machine. The man with the electrodes placed them onto my temples and pressed his hand onto my forehead to keep me still. I couldn't move, the guards were way too strong; and I hadn't eaten in days anyway – I was incredibly weak. 

This was it. I was either going to die, or become so mentally drained that I might as well just be dead anyway. I fought and fought, kicked, screamed; I refused to stay still. “Please!” I yelled, but it just sounded like a muffled cry. “Please, I'll do anything!”

It was no use, they couldn't understand me. Even if they could understand me, they wouldn't have stopped.

“Alright boys, you have her good?” Thredson asked, and the three men nodded.

“All good to go, doctor.”

“Perfect.”

I looked frantically at all of the guards standing around me, hoping that one of them would see through my pleading looks and stop the evil son of a bitch. I don't even know why I tried; because Thredson was already counting back from 3.

“3...2...1!”

He flipped the switch; and it was all over. The electricity started in my temples, a million bees were stinging the inside of my skull. I screamed bloody murder; and the pain spread – my entire body was convulsing uncontrollably. I couldn't move, I couldn't kick, I couldn't even shut my eyes; I shook, my eyes wide open, and the excruciating sensation paralyzed me. My vision was blurred, almost going completely black, and I thought I was going to die. The pain was completely unbearable.

Thredson flipped the switch back down, and I heard the machine stop; but the voltage still coursed through my body. I pulsated, over and over, feeling like I had been using a jackhammer – I just couldn't stop the seizure. I thrashed around on the bed, only being held down by straps, and I screamed out in agony.

Thredson looked at me with no emotion, and neither did any of the other 3 men. “I think she needs another jolt,” he said, acting as if he were actually concerned for my mental health. “We really need to shock that illlness out of her.”

The men readjusted their grips and gave Thredson a nod when they were ready.

“3...2...1!”

Again, the machine jumped; and I felt the electricity shock my weak, trembling body – this time worse than the last. I shrieked again, my pitch high and unyielding, as the current traveled straight through to my bone. I felt as if I had been struck by lightning; the searing convulsions were absolutely unendurable. I layed there on the bed, my body completely stiff; writhing and trembling as the shock of electricity pulsated through my veins, and all I could think of was the boy with the big, beautiful, brown eyes.

The machine stopped it's humming, and yet again, I continued to convulse. My teeth were clenched and my vision was doubled, tripled, quadrupled. I was in a daze; everything around me was moving so slowly.

The three men walked out of the room nonchalantly, and the man standing above me leaned down into my face and smiled with a chilling, evil laugh.

“Oh, trust me. Electroshock therapy does _wonders_ ,” he cackled. “A session a day for two weeks, and you'll be as good as new.”

The pain wasn't going away. In fact, I thought it was getting worse. My peripheral vision began to fade out; it turned black, and the black began to spread throughout the rest of my eyes. My head was spinning, the _room_ was spinning, and the last thing I remember was Thredson walking out; and shutting the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man. Poor Audrey.
> 
> The electroshock scenes in Asylum always gave me the creeps, especially Lana's. Sarah Paulson is _one hell_ of an actress.
> 
> So I updated twice today! There's a nice little surprise for you.
> 
> Next chapter will be up soon, most likely tomorrow. Hope you all are enjoying!


	13. The Frame Game

I blinked.

I blinked again.

Why is my vision so foggy?

I rubbed my eyes.

Where am I?

The room was warm. The walls were tinted yellow, and there were racks of fresh baked bread.

What am I doing here?

I looked around at all of the people inhabiting the bakery. Everyone seemed to be in some sort of blue nightgown. There were nuns; helping people bake, watching people, dismissing people. I looked down at myself – I was in the blue nightgown too.

Where did I get this? When did I put this on?

I looked down at the counter in front of me. Flour was scattered among the counter top, and all over my hands. A lump of dough sat right in the middle of all the flour. I couldn't remember how it got here. Or, rather, how _I_ got here.

A nun approached me. An older, slightly-wrinkled, blonde nun with a frown on her face; looking down at my previously kneaded dough; and the fact that I wasn't kneading, it agitated her. “Miss Davis. Do I have to babysit you to make sure you're doing your job?”

I barely looked up at her. She was talking to me, I knew she was, but I didn't recognize the name that she referred to me. 

Wait a second. What was my name?

I stared at the dough in front of me, my hair dangling in front of my face. I saw the nun place her hands on her hips angrily. “You will look me in the eye when I am talking to you, Miss Davis!” She grabbed my shoulder and startled me. “And get your hair out of your face!”

As I flinched, she pulled my hair away from my eyes; and I saw the look on her face change drastically. She stared at my temples and immediately backed off. “Oh, sweet Lord.”

I looked up at her, worriedly and confused, and she shook her head. 

“He fried you good,” she mumbled under her breath, with a nervous stare. But she shook her head again and patted my shoulder, pivoting on her heels to go check on the other people in the strange bakery. “Just do what you can, Miss Davis.”

Her heels clicked against the linoleum floor as she left me dumbfounded, sitting on that uncomfortable stool. 'Fried me good'? What was that supposed to mean?

I brought my hands up and held them out in front of me; they trembled immensely, and I wasn't sure why. I felt weak, tired, and hungry – but I still wasn't sure where I was, or what I was doing here. What the hell was going on?

Suddenly, the door to the bakery opened; and in walked a woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and a sullen expression. She casually walked over to the coat rack and grabbed a white apron, throwing it on over her head and tying it around her waist. As she turned around, we made eye contact; and she smiled as she began to jog over to me. “Audrey! I didn't know you had the same shift-”

She stopped, mid sentence, and her smile was wiped right off of her face. Her jaw dropped as she looked at my forehead, just as the nun did, and she gasped. “Oh, Christ! Audrey, what happened!”

I stared at her, bewildered; I didn't know this woman. And I didn't know what happened, either.

“Oh my God,” she said, kneeling down to my height on the stool. “Audrey, it's me. It's Lana. Do you remember me?”

I shook my head and looked away from the strange lady.

“Do you know where you are?”

I shook my head again, still not making eye contact.

She shook her head along with me, her eyes practically bulging out of her head. “Oh, God, it was him. It was Thredson,” she said, looking down and away from my eyes. She stayed there for a minute and bit her lip as thoughts ran through her head. She seemed really nervous; really scared. Not for herself, but for me. “Oh, God. I have to get Kit,” she mumbled. “I have to find Kit.” She returned her gaze to my eyes, and she touched my hand. I flinched. “Audrey, I'll be right back, okay? Stay here,” she said, as she got up and quickly left the room.

I was in too much of a confusion to really care about where I was, or what was going on around me. I felt dazed, like I had just woken up from a crazy dream that I confused with reality; yet at the same time, everything seemed so hyper-realistic.

I lifted my hands again and placed them on the sticky dough in front of me. I rolled the lump around underneath my fingertips, mindlessly, nervously; waiting for some clarity. I was scared – really, I was, but I almost felt as though I wasn't actually in reality; so that threw me off, big time. I felt like I needed to sleep. And sleep, and sleep, and sleep.

I sat there on that uncomfortable stool for what felt like 3 hours; but even my perception of time was thrown. A minute felt like an hour, and 3 hours felt like 10 seconds. I couldn't quite get a grip on it.

I wasn't exactly sure how long I had been sitting there, rolling the dough in between my fingers; but the door busted open again and sparked my curiosity. I looked up, and the same woman from before was standing there – except, this time, she had brought a young boy with her.

He was tall. His hair was brown, it looked soft and touchable. He had a concerned look on his face as he stared at me for a few moments; his deep, dark eyes penetrating through mine, and I stared right back at him.

“Audrey,” he whispered, his eyes becoming glassy. He ran to me and knelt down, just as the woman did before, and he grabbed my hand. He held it, brought it up to his mouth as he kissed it with his soft lips, and I stood frozen. I didn't have a clue who he was. 

He held my hand tightly, and I wanted to pull away, but I didn't. “Oh, sweetheart. Do you remember me?” He asked, his brows pleading and his eyes intense.

I shook my head.

“I'm Kit,” he said, disappointed, yet hopeful. “I'm Kit Walker, remember?”

I shook my head again.

He frowned as he ran a soft hand across my forehead, lightly touching my temple on my right side. I flinched; his touch hurt. My temples felt raw, burned, as if someone had set me on fire. “Oh, Audrey...” He whispered sadly. “Look what he did to you...” His eyes were welling up a bit. Who was this man that cared so much about me?

“D-Don't you remember?” He asked, rubbing my hand with his thumb. “I.. I pulled some guy off you when you first came here. An' you, me, and Lana,” he pointed to the girl next to us, “... We escaped, remember? An' w-we got caught. An' then when we came back in, I took you to the Hydrotherapy Room...”

I looked at him and furrowed my brow, blinking a few times.

He nodded his head vigorously, trying to jog my memory. “And... An' we...”

I just stared at him, blankly. I didn't remember a thing.

The boy turned to look at the woman. He wiped the forming tears in his eyes; and suddenly his brow became furrowed – he breathed heavily through his mouth, his face becoming red with anger. “I'll fuckin' kill him! Lana, I swear to God, I'm gonna slit his goddamn throat, just like he did to her sisters-”

The woman put her hands on his shoulders. “Kit, wait-”

He shrugged her off. “I'm not lettin' him get away with this! Fuck, I'm gonna tear him apart! Christ, _no one_ hurts _my_ girl like that! No one's gonna-”

He stormed off in mid sentence, punching the wall with a great force as he exited the room. The girl, Lana, she called out for him in a panic. “Kit! Kit, stop!”

I was pretty shaken up, I really really didn't know what was going on. Lana suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me up off of the stool. “C'mon, Audrey, we have to stop him. He's gonna get himself killed!”

I pulled out of her grip. My mouth was so dry; at first I thought I had forgotten how to speak, but as I licked my lips, it came back to me. “I... I don't know you-”

Lana sighed nervously and shook her head, grabbing my hand again. “I know you're confused. I know you don't know who we are – but you have to trust me!”

I stood there and looked at her for a moment, my eyes wide with bewilderment. “Is...” I had to think for a second to remember his name. “Is...Kit... My husband?”

She smirked a bit, although she was still in some sort of panic. “I don't exactly know what's going on between you and Kit; but no, he's not your husband.”

I looked at her and cocked my head to the side. “...What?”

“I think you two have some pretty strong feelings for each other,” she explained. Her cheeks went a bit pink for a moment and she raised her eyebrows. “And I don't know anything about what happened in the Hydrotherapy Room, that's for sure. You'll have to ask Kit for the answer to that one.”

I smiled a little, although I was still really confused. Lana held her hand out again, and she sighed. “C'mon, Audrey. We gotta stop him before he does something really stupid.”

I looked at her for a moment or two. Something in my head – I wasn't sure what it was, but it was something – and it told me to trust her.

So I slid my hand into hers, and she pulled me out into the hallway; the bakery doors slamming shut behind us.

The halls were dark and cold; and now I _really_ wasn't sure where the hell I was. I kept my pace with Lana, who seemed to have an easy time running; but for me, I could barely stand without feeling weak. I tried my best – I could tell we were in a big rush.

“What is this place?” I asked the girl in front of me as we ran.

She held onto my hand tight and didn't even look back to answer me. “Briarciff Manor. It's a mental institution.”

I was utterly shocked. “What am I doing here?”

“You're a patient here, just like me and Kit.”

I blinked wildly as I looked at the cells while we barreled past them, “What the hell did I do to get in here?”

“Nothing,” Lana replied, point-blank. “None of us did. You, me, and Kit – all three of us were framed.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Framed?”

Lana rolled her eyes. “Well, technically, _I_ wasn't framed, I'm just a homosexual. Apparently, it's a dangerous mental illness.”

I made a face. Who the fuck came up with _that_ shitty accusation? I shook my head, not wanting to get into the subject. “...Well, what about me and Kit?”

Lana nodded. “You and Kit were framed. Supposedly, you murdered your three sisters and your baby. Kit murdered two ladies and his wife. Turns out, you both didn't murder anyone – The real guy who killed your family was the same guy who killed Kit's family. The same man who took me to his house, violated me, and killed my lover. And that man, Oliver Thredson, is actually the head psychiatrist at Briarcliff. He's the one who shocked your memory out of your brain. He's also your ex husband.”

I looked at her wildly. “Well, shit.”

“Yeah, I know.”

We kept running; turning corners, peering through doors, slipping past guards. We couldn't find Kit anywhere. 

“Shit,” Lana sighed. “I hope he didn't get caught.” She stopped running and turned to look at me, before scanning the halls. “He could be in solitary right now, for all we know.”

Lana turned back around, and we walked slowly through the dark hall. We looked carefully; but after a few minutes, I felt like someone was following us. I turned around; and there, in front of me, stood a tall man with dark hair and glasses. He smirked; and I immediately knew who he was, Lana didn't even have to tell me.

“Looking for someone, ladies?” He said, as he pulled a restrained Kit along behind him; whose head was hanging down toward the ground. Lana gasped, pulling me closer to her, protectively.

“Thredson!” She exclaimed, pulling me a step back. I looked at the boy and felt my heart skip a beat.

“Kit?” I said quietly, hoping the boy was okay. I saw his arms shuffle inside of his straitjacket, and he kept his head hanging down low. “Kit... Are you alright?”

And the boy looked up at me with an open gash along the side of his face; his left eye swollen, and blood dripping from his nose. Lana and I both gasped as Thredson smiled again, cocking an eyebrow.

“I'm so glad that you ladies found us,” he chortled, and I felt Lana's quick heartbeat against my back. He leaned into my face, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust; and he laughed, “Now the party's _really_ about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, these three, never getting a break, huh?
> 
> Don't worry, justice will find it's way, I promise. Sooner than you may think.
> 
> I hit 79 views so far. I want to thank every single one of you! Even if you only read a single chapter. It still means a lot.
> 
> Keep reading, and keep commenting. I appreciate it!


	14. Crimson

The door shut and latched with a click as I stumbled into the room, Lana following soon behind me. With a hard shove, Thredson pushed Kit onto the floor; still restrained in a straitjacket, he couldn't break his fall with his arms – so his head did, instead. 

“Ah!” Kit grunted, wincing in pain as he curled up helpless on the floor. Thredson charged toward him and I gasped; Lana pushed past me and stood right in front of Kit.

“You keep your hands off him, Oliver.”

The man laughed viciously. “And what are you going to do, Lana?” He raised his brow. “Kill me?”

I stayed back against the wall; trying my hardest to keep out of the situation. I didn't know what to do. I was in a room full of strangers. Kit and Lana were nice, and they claimed to have been my friends, but it all meant nothing now. Not a single memory came back to me. I just wanted to get out of there for my own sake.

Lana cocked an eyebrow at the seemingly dangerous man. “Oh, believe me, I might do _just_ that.”

Thredson smiled. “You know, Lana, you've always been that way.”

Lana narrowed her eyes; fists clenched, stance strong. “What way?”

“Tough,” he said, nodding his head at the woman. He then turned on his heel and made his way over to me. “Unlike this one, over here.”

I furrowed my brow out of confusion and my heart rate picked up as the man backed me up into the wall. I shuddered at his aura; it was evil, immoral, terrifying. I opened my mouth to speak.

“I-I don't know you.”

He laughed right in my face. “I should have seen this coming,” he joked, patting me on the shoulder. I stared at him angrily. He grabbed a jar off the tray sitting next to the bed in the room; which had many surgical tools sitting on top of it. “Well, maybe I should jog your memory, huh?”

I looked past him for a moment; making eye contact with Lana. She nodded her head at me; and she bent down quietly to help Kit off the floor. I returned my gaze to Thredson, who, luckily, was paying no attention to the two people behind him.

“What are you talking about?” I asked the man, as he stirred the contents of the jar, coating a popsicle stick with the substance. Something about that seemed a bit familiar.

He placed the jar on the tray again and walked a bit closer to me. “Lay down on the bed, and I'll show you.”

“No!” I snapped, withdrawing from the man. “No, I'm not laying-”

Thredson grabbed my wrists and forced me down; I screamed and kicked violently as he strapped my ankles and wrists down to the table, and it wasn't long before he was successful – I had no strength left in me.

“Let me go!” I yelled at the man, who had picked up the jar of clear goo again. “Please! Please, I'll do anything you want!”

The evil doctor rubbed the popsicle stick on my temples; and I shouted in pain. The substance burned so badly – it felt like he had poured lemon juice in an open wound. “Oh, relax, drama queen,” he hissed.

I needed to get off of that table. I wiggled and wiggled to get out of the straps, but Thredson had buckled them nice and tight. I watched him as he grabbed a pair of electrodes off of the strange machine on the wall; and he placed them over my temples. He switched the machine on – and as soon as I heard the familiar whirring of the current, everything came flooding back to me at once.

“No!” I screamed, panicking, suddenly regaining my strength. “No, no! Not again! Johnny, please!”

He smiled wickedly and nodded. “Ah! There we are, your memory is returning.”

“Please,” I cried. “Please, you can't do this to me.”

He turned the gauge up with his index finger and his thumb. I watched the needle move further to the right, and I almost got sick at the thought of how bad this was going to hurt. “Oh, but I _can_ do this to you. And I'm going to.”

I sobbed, turning my head from side to side. “You don't have to, my memory is coming back.”

“Oh yeah? Then what's your name?” He asked, grabbing the mouthpiece that I suddenly remembered tasted like rubber and cleaning products.

I breathed heavily, panting with fear. “A-Audrey Leigh Holden.”

Thredson laughed again. “Wrong.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, feeling anger begin to surge through my body. “Actually, that's _right_ ,” I seethed. “I'll be damned if I ever have to use _your_ last name ever again, even if it was fake; you sadistic asshole!”

I spit right into his face; bravery returned, along with my memory. He jumped back, letting out a cry of disgust as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

But he soon laughed, and placed his right hand on the lever; while holding the electrodes on my forehead with his left. “I highly doubt you'll be using _any_ name after I get done with you.”

All of my fear and anxiety washed away and was replaced with defeat. “Do your worst,” I said to the evil man. I smirked. “At least I'll go out with a bang, huh?”

Thredson nodded. “More of a 'shock', really.”

“Whatever.”

The whirring of the machine began to intensify as he cranked the gauge again; this time, it touched the bottom of the right-hand side. It was all the way up. I knew that there was no way to survive this. I accepted it – I didn't fight him, I didn't cry, I didn't scream. I took a deep breath and thought to myself, 'This is how it's going to end. My husband frying me at a mental institution.”

Thredson, Johnny, whoever the fuck he was; he smiled. “Ready?”

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

He nodded back at me with a wink. “3...”

I clenched my teeth and braced myself – not that it would help.

“2...”

Wait a second, where were Kit and Lana?

“1!”

I screamed; but my scream was matched with another. The whirring of the machine ceased; and for a second, I thought I had died – but when I realized that no current was flowing through me, I opened my eyes. The man standing behind me gurgled; and when I looked back, he fell to his knees as blood gushed out of his chest.

He clutched his heart and dropped completely to the floor with a heavy thud. The gurgling stopped. Lana began to undo my straps; and as I sat up, I stared at the doctor, laying in a pool of his own blood. I watched as he struggled to breathe, slowly coming to a stop; and crimson gore continued to squirt out violently from in between his fingers – until finally, he went limp.

“I told 'em he wasn't gonna hurt my girl.”

I looked up. Behind Thredson's still body, clutching a bloody pair of surgical scissors, was my red-faced, wide eyed Kit Walker.

My jaw was wide open. I was speechless. Kit had just killed Oliver Thredson.

“K-Kit,” I stuttered, my eyes welling up with tears. He dropped the scissors onto the floor and embraced me, scooping me up off of the bed and throwing the electrodes off of my temples. He held me close to him; letting me cry into his chest, gently caressing the back of my head.

“He can't hurt you anymore, I promise. I'm here, I'm right here.”

I blubbered into his shirt; inaudible words escaped my dry lips and Kit just held me there protectively.

“You're okay. Everything's gonna be okay, sweetheart.”

I felt Lana lay a hand on my back. She rubbed it softly, trying to sooth my uncontrollable sobs. “Kit, take her somewhere,” she smoothed my hair down. “I'll meet you in the Common Room in an hour or so.”

I felt Kit nod as Lana tossed him Thredson's keys; he unlocked the door and carried me out into the hall as I wept into his chest. 

Luckily, we weren't that far from my cell; we slipped into my room and Kit quietly shut us in. He sat down on by bed, still holding my quivering body within his lap, and he rocked me like a child.

“I'm – I'm sorry,” he stammered, laying his head on top of mine. “I know he was your husband... I-I know you loved him-”

I pulled my face out of Kit's chest, and I looked into his eyes; I ran my hand along his cheek, avoiding the fresh gash on the side of his face. “Kit,” I hiccuped, letting the tears streak my face, “You saved me.”

I didn't wait for him to answer. I pulled him down gently and touched my lips to his, kissing him with all of the tenderness I had left in me. He brought his hand up to my cheek and wiped my tears with his thumb as he kissed me back, pulling me into his warmth; and I felt like nothing in the world could hurt me.

He pulled away slightly and touched his forehead to mine. His warm breath tickled the tip of my nose, and I felt him pull me closer. “I... uh,” he smiled, hesitating to finish. “I love you, Audrey.”

“I love you too, Kit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thredson is dead! Finally!
> 
> And who better to kill him than Kit Walker?
> 
> Love is in the air, everyone. Sweet, murderous love.
> 
> Again, thank you all for reading. Please comment, I would love to hear what you all think.
> 
> Another chapter will be up soon!


	15. Autumn

Although my memory was pretty much restored, there were still some chunks missing. Small things, insignificant things; but the major stuff was all back. Which, you know, sounds pretty appealing at first, but after going through everything I've gone through – I'd rather just forget.

Right now, the only two things that were important enough for me to remember, were Kit and Lana. Everything else could have gone to shit; but as long as I had them with me, I felt invincible. We protected each other, loved each other, kept each other company. After Thredson's death, I felt a tsunami of emotions; happy, relief, depression, confusion, fear... Even grief. Although I wasn't so much grieving for Thredson as I was for the girl inside me that used to love him. 

As for his body, Lana took care of it. Apparently she made some kind of deal with Sister Mary Eunice; I'm not exactly sure why she agreed, but the nun took the body into the woods and promised to never tell a soul, not even Sister Jude. She's strange, that one. I feel like she's always up to something.

I really did lose track of time. The leaves had already began to change color, or so Dr. Arden had told me. He got me into his operating theater again sometime after Thredson had been killed – he claimed to have found a cure for the common cold. Of course, he injected me with some kind of plant-syrup shit, and nothing happened. Thankfully.

Nobody came to Briarcliff asking about Oliver Thredson. Not that I know of, anyway. He always told me that he didn't have any family – at least _that_ was the truth. And a relieving truth, I don't know what I would have done if I were questioned about his murder. And Lana never got the chance to release his confession tape; as of right now, Kit is still Bloodyface to everyone but me and Lana. I'm still seen as guilty for murdering my three sisters and my son. But I'm not worried – Justice will be served.

I sat alone in my cell. I sat at the end of my bed and stared longingly out of the window; Arden was right, the leaves were changing. Autumn was always my favorite season. It reminded me that new beginnings were coming, new days, a new year. The old year was starting to crumple up and blow away, making room for an entirely fresh start. I closed my eyes and breathed in; picturing the sweet smell of pumpkin pie and the crisp, cool air that used to hit my face as I walked outside to hang up the laundry on our clothesline. The clouds danced across the blue sky as the sun reflected off of all the reds and oranges and yellows; oh, it was always so beautiful. I wished I could feel that way again. The goosebumps on my skin, my cheeks rosy from the chilly wind.

I opened my eyes and looked around me. Gray, desolate walls and a damp stillness in the air that gave me a different kind of goosebumps. The smell of disinfectant, of what's left of the filth from the resident before me. Nothing to comfort me but the thin, itchy sheets that barely fit my uncomfortable bed; and a tiny barred window that teased me with the beauty and comfort of nature, _just_ outside of the dirty glass.

I had become accustomed to my little cell. I've learned to appreciate it; there are tons of places in this building that are so much worse. But on days like this, I felt more pain inside this stupid little room than I have while strapped to any kind of surgical table.

I didn't feel like going anywhere today. I didn't want to go to the Common Room and chat. I didn't want to knead out my frustrations in the bakery. I didn't want to soak in hot water and melt all my sorrows away in the Hydrotherapy Room. I just wanted to stay right here, curled up on this tiny bed, with my eyes shut and my brain turned off.

I couldn't sleep. Which was pretty unfortunate, considering that's all I wanted to do. There was so much going on in my head, I couldn't even keep up with it. I felt like all hope was gone for me. I wanted to get out so badly; I wanted to fight and fight until I got what I deserved – but I was just so tired. Tired of sitting in this room. Tired of baking bread. Tired of hearing that song play over and over. Tired of living.

Well, living like _this_ , at least.

I'd give anything to get a few good hours of sleep. Maybe I should call Dr. Arden and have him shoot me up with some Cicu-whatever-the-fuck-it's-called. I was out like a light when he gave me that stuff the first few days I was admitted here. 

I know, I know. Too dangerous. Too painful. As if I wasn't used to danger and pain by now. 

I wondered what Kit was doing. I'm sure he was either in the Common Room with Lana, or working in the bakery. He always seemed like he didn't mind it here. I know that he did; but Kit trudged through it. I always admired that about him. I wished that I could pull myself together like he did. To walk around like nothing bothered me, to put up a front so that nobody could see how I really felt. 

But the thing with Kit was that I could always tell when he was feeling down. He didn't show it; as a matter of fact, nobody would ever guess, not even Lana. But something always reached out to me, something familiar; whether it'd be a glimmer in his eye or a twitch in his lip. I'd pull him aside every once in a while and ask him what was wrong. He'd always put up a facade; telling me that he was just tired, or hungry. But eventually I'd get to him and he'd take me somewhere private; and he'd fall apart. I'd let him cry for a while and tell me about how he missed Alma, and his old house, and his old life. I would hold him against me until his tears saturated my shirt; and then he'd stand back up and wipe his cheeks, kiss me quick, and walk right back out like nothing was wrong. He was a tough cookie. And Lana was, too. 

She cried to me once in a while. We'd cry together, too. Sitting there in the bakery, hiding behind racks of bread, sobbing into each other's shoulders as we talked about our old lives; our cozy little houses, the jobs that we loved, and the person that we loved. We'd cry about betrayal, and loss – devastation, anger, and forgiveness. Our stories were far from similar; but our feelings were one in the same. I never felt alone when I was with Lana, especially when we shared our feelings. She always comforted me, let me know that I wasn't the only one going through so much pain. She told me to keep pushing through, to keep my chin up, and carry on. And if it weren't for her being there to help me, I don't think I would have lasted more than a week in this place.

I looked out the window again. The leaves on the trees glowed with rays of golden sunlight; and I suddenly thought to myself, 'I'm luckier than I thought.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so _so_ sorry that I haven't been updating recently! I've been out and about, actually having a life for once hahaha
> 
> So here's a bit of a shorter chapter, but it's a deep one. We've fast forwarded about a month or two since Thredson's death. Audrey, Kit, and Lana are three peas in a pod. 
> 
> Again, sorry for the wait. I will try to start updating daily again; but if I can't keep up, I promise you at least one update a week!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	16. We Can Handle It

“Mm, somethin' smells good.”

I smiled, hearing his sweet voice coming through our front door. I licked my lips and inhaled the scent along with him. “All for you, darling,” I said, wiping my hands off on my blue apron. I picked up the oven mitts laying on our counter top and placed the hot pumpkin pie on the ledge of the open windowsill to cool.

The sound of the door shutting behind me spread another grin across my face, and I turned to look at my handsome man; messy hair, oil smudged on his face, and a weary smile plastered across his dimpled cheeks. He strutted toward me, his arms swinging lazily at his sides.“All for me, huh?”

“Mm-hm,” I nodded. “All for you.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and brought my body closer to his, planting a quick kiss on my lips. “Well, I'm a damn lucky man,” he smiled. “That means I got _two_ tasty things all to myself tonight.”

I laughed quietly and returned his sweet kiss. “You're a charmer, you know that, Kit Walker?”

He shrugged playfully and smirked; I just about melted. “So I've been told.”

He kissed me again, with all the love and intensity he had left in him after such a long day at work. After we parted our lips, I slipped out of his grip and returned to our little kitchen to wash and dry the few utensils that were sitting in the sink. But first, I removed the diamond ring from my left hand and placed it on the counter, so I wouldn't drop it down the sink. “So, anything interesting happen today?”

I heard Kit chuckle from behind me. “Interesting, babe? Define interesting.”

I chuckled back, turning on the sink and running the soapy sponge under the hot water. “I don't know. Run into any pinheads? Or nuns?”

“No,” Kit laughed.

I smiled, looking down at the suds covering the china in my hands. “Good.”

Suddenly, I heard a loud slam. “Oh!” I jumped, dropping the dish into the sink; and the water splashed up and soaked my clothes.

“Audrey!” Kit yelled, his voice echoing a bit. I turned around; it was strange, he sounded like he had drove into a tunnel. He placed his hands on my shoulders and shook them firmly. “Audrey, wake up!”

I blinked a few times, suddenly feeling a bit groggy. Everything started to fade. “Huh?”

“Audrey!”

“We gotta go!”

“Audrey, wake up, c'mon!”

I gasped and shot up out of bed. The room was gray with concrete walls, itchy bedsheets, a barred window, and a handsome boy sitting on the side of my bed with his hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake.

I was back at Briarcliff.

And it wasn't long until I realized; I had never left to begin with.

“Kit?” I asked, blinking my eyes to clear away the beautiful visions in my dream. “What's going on?”

“Someone fried the circuits in the break room. The security system is goin' haywire,” he said quickly, pulling me up out of my bed. I heard a faint siren in the distance, and a red glow appearing in the hall. “This is our chance to get outta this dump!”

My heart stopped for a second. Was this actually happening? Or was it just another hopeful dream?

“H-How did-”

“I don't know! Just hurry!” I immediately got up onto my feet, and Kit took a hold of my hand. “C'mon, we gotta go find Lana!”

We booked it out of my cell, running through the dimly lit corridors of the mental hospital that we've called home for months. Dozens of patients were running awry; guards were too busy chasing them to even notice that Kit and I had ran right past them. Kit led in front of me, his left hand reaching behind him to come in contact with mine. Even in a rush of panic, his hands were still as soft and warm as they were the day we fooled around in the Hydrotherapy Room.

We ran for quite some time, until I began to recognize the hall we turned into. Kit proceeded running until we got to one of the last cells in the corridor: Lana's.

“Where is she?” I asked frantically as we peeked into her dark cell. “She's not in here!”

“I dunno,” Kit answered, equally as frantic. “But we gotta find 'er!”

Our first thought was that she had already escaped, or that she got caught trying. We both turned quickly on our heel and took off in the opposite direction we came. The sirens pierced through my ears as we ran through the halls; the red pulse of the deep light almost gave me a headache to boot. 

We scrounged the corridors. Peeking in every cell, every room, even in the authorities' offices. There was nobody in the Common Room, the kitchen, the Hydrotherapy Room, the Electroshock Therapy room, or any of the isolation cells. 

“Shit,” Kit said, bending down to catch his breath. He placed his hands on his knees and shook his head. “Somethin' better not have happened to 'er!” 

Suddenly, I saw a silhouette of a woman running toward us; and Kit and I both breathed a sigh of relief. “Lana!”

“There you guys are!” She said as she approached us, sounding as though her breath had been sucked right out of her chest. “Come on, we can leave through the death chute!”

“We've been lookin' everywhere for you!” Kit exclaimed, pulling her into us. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Death chute it is. But how are we gonna get past whatever's out there?” He asked nervously. “Whatever Sister Mary Eunice was feeding, I don't think it's real friendly.”

Lana shook her head and grabbed Kit's shoulders for a moment, shaking them. “Do you even _realize_ what we have fought against in this piece of shit torture chamber?” She pointed randomly in an outward direction. “We can fuckin' handle whatever comes at us in those woods.”

I shook my head vigorously, shifting my stare between my two friends. “Lana, we don't even know what they _are_. You can't just-”

“I _said_ ,” Lana growled, reaching under her dress and into her waistband. She pulled out a handgun, a .22 center fire Magnum. “...We can fuckin' handle it.”

My jaw just about hit the floor. “Where the hell'd you get that?” Kit asked in surprise. Lana smiled slyly.

“I still have Thredson's keys. This baby was locked away in his drawer,” she chuckled, eyeing the shiny metal. “Although I was a bit surprised. He once told me that he didn't believe in guns.”

I studied the firearm closer; I noticed that it was the same one that he shot himself in the leg with, the same night of the murders. I cringed a bit, but I shook it off.

“Well, come on! What are we waiting for?” Kit shouted. “Let's go!”

Lana shoved the gun back into her waistband and the three of us jumped at the chance, throwing ourselves down the hall; our turns were quick and stealthy, our voices low and quiet, and my legs just about broke apart underneath me from our speed. Kit held my hand the entire time, giving me a little squeeze any time he felt me falling a little slower behind. I looked down at our hands intertwined; and I envisioned that beautiful diamond ring adorning my finger. 

But I quickly shook my head to get the image out of my mind. Why would someone like Kit marry me, anyway? I'm just some crazy broad he met in a mental institution. I'm sure he only loved me because there was nobody else to love in this shitty place. 

We maneuvered our way around most of the workers. It wasn't long before we were about to turn into the familiar corridor that lead to the death chute; but suddenly, Lana stopped running. Kit and I came to a quick halt, looking at her quizzically.

“Hold on,” she whispered, peering around the corner. Kit and I stayed back, hiding behind the safety of the brick wall. I watched Lana's eyes widen as she looked on the other side; and she held up a hand in order to signal us to stop walking.

Kit turned back toward me and raised his eyebrows. I felt my heart thumping rapidly inside my chest; the adrenaline in my body was pumping like crazy. 

Lana turned toward us again, leaning in close so that she didn't have to talk above a whisper. “Carl, the Orderly, he's right around the bend. If we walk out this way, he'll see us,” she explained, exchanging glances with first me, then Kit.

“So what do we do?” I asked. Lana sighed, hesitating to answer for a brief moment.

“Alright. Let me go first, I'll try and slip past him. Once I get to the doors, I'll signal you when it's clear,” she explained. She reached for the gun tucked into her waistband – she didn't quite take it out, but she set her hand on the handle, just in case. “...Okay?”

Kit and I both nodded simultaneously. “Try an' be careful, Lana,” Kit said, shaking her shoulder in a brotherly fashion. She smirked and nodded.

“Alright. Wait for my signal.”

She slipped around the corner as Kit and I peered around the bricks to watch her plan unfold. She casually walked down the hall, and Carl didn't even turn to look at the woman sauntering toward him. She turned back to look at us, to make sure we were watching, and she shot us a sneaky smile.

“I sure hope this works,” Kit said, keeping his eyes around the bend. I nodded, even though I knew I was behind him and he couldn't see me.

“Me too, Kit.”

I heard him sigh, grabbing my hand in his again and caressing it with his thumb. It relaxed me, made me feel so much more at ease.

I returned my focus on my good friend Lana, who was now within 10 feet of Carl. He finally turned and saw her; acting sudden and ready to attack at first, but deadening his instinct after realizing who it was. 

“Ah, you. What're you doin' out, huh? Are you aware that there's a lockdown goin' on?”

Lana played along with him. “I'm just going to the ladies room.”

Carl nodded, furrowing his brow. “Well, Sister Jude ordered the staff to keep you patients under control until the security system's fixed,” he cleared his throat. “I'm afraid you can't be runnin' around out here, Miss Winters.”

Lana bowed her head and sloppily saluted the white-suited man. “I'll just be on my way, then.”

“Alright.”

She turned right and she walked toward the double doors. Kit looked back at me briefly and smiled. “I think she cleared it.”

We both watched her take each individual step toward the doors to the chute. Right as she opened them, she turned around to give us the signal; and I heard something that scared the life out of me.

“Ah, what a pleasant surprise.”

Kit and I both jumped a mile and whipped our heads around. There she was, standing behind us in her black habit, clutching the cross hanging from her neck – Sister Jude.

“My, my. Out dawdling, are we?” She asked with a sinister smile. Kit scowled at her; I just cowered. Sister Jude unhanded the cross around her neck, folding her arms neatly over her modestly covered chest.

“Up to my office. _Both_ of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Kit and Audrey won't be escaping any time soon.
> 
> But Lana? Hmm... We'll see!
> 
> Honestly, I just can't wait for fall, if you couldn't tell from the last two chapters. Pumpkin everything, hot coffee, Halloween, scary movies, and American Horror Story: Hotel. It really doesn't get better than that.
> 
> Anyway, hope you're enjoying! Please comment. I would love to hear your opinions.


	17. Welts

“You two just _love_ to cause trouble, don't you?”

Kit and I sat in Sister Jude's office, our hands folded in our laps, bound with chains. We shot each other a glance out of the corner of our eyes, and the nun chuckled at us. Her beady eyes sent chills straight through my spine. 

“What exactly were you _doing_ out there?” She asked us, tilting her head and squinting her eyes, as if she actually cared. Kit looked up at her and cleared his throat, shifting his position in his seat.

“We were goin' for a walk.”

Sister Jude laughed. “A walk, huh?” She shook her head. “During a lockdown?”

Kit removed his eyes from the older woman. He didn't answer.

Sister Jude stood up from her chair and drew in a breath. “I think, what the both of you need, is some proper discipline,” she said slowly, walking out from behind her desk. She clasped her hands behind her back while Kit and I followed her with our eyes, watching her make her way to the tall cabinet next to the door. “I think that a few lashes will do _just_ the trick, don't you?”

I looked at Kit nervously, and he refused to make any kind of eye contact. Something told me that he was a bit familiar with this punishment.

I took in a breath and felt my palms getting sweaty. Sister Jude threw open the doors to the cabinet and revealed an array of cane choices. Some were pointy, some were thin; a few were spiked, and one or two that were just plain.

Sister Jude turned around to face us, and presented the open cabinet like a game show host. “Now, which do you prefer?”

Again, I looked at Kit nervously; and he returned my glance. He shut his eyes momentarily and shook his head from side to side. 

“Well,” Sister Jude said, placing her hands on her hips. “If you won't decide, I will gladly take the liberty of picking them out myself.”

I hesitantly watched her scan the choices before finally removing one of the torture sticks with her bony fingers. She studied it for a moment before nodding with a smile, and turning back toward us. 

“I'll get to _you_ later, Miss Davis,” the nun said, pointing to me. I cringed; not at the thought of the caning, but at the sound of that dreadful last name. She turned her focus to the anxious man sitting next to me. “How's this one for you, my child?” She asked, holding the cane out in front of Kit. He looked up at it; it was thick, heavy, with spikes jetting out of the end. He winced, bringing his attention back down toward his hands, fiddling with his fingernails nervously; and Sister Jude chuckled again.

“Perfect. You're first, Mr. Walker. Stand up,” she ordered, and he reluctantly listened. He stood up from his chair, the shackles on his wrists jingling from the sudden movement; and he took a few steps forward. Sister Jude walked steadily toward him, stopping and standing next to her desk. “Drop your drawers, and bend over.”

Kit stood awkwardly for a moment, staring straight ahead of him. I watched him, almost wanting to look away to give him some dignity, but I kept my gaze in his direction. He looked at me for a second before turning around to face Sister Jude's desk.

He unbuttoned his cloth pants with his hands still cuffed together, and he slid them down just enough to expose his bare behind. He cleared his throat and bent over, touching his chin to the wooden desk top. 

Sister Jude visibly tightened her grip on the cane. “15 lashes.”

Kit sucked in a breath and held it there. 

I sucked in a breath too.

Sister Jude drew back her hand, winding up her first lash. She flicked her wrist forward, causing the cane to whip in Kit's direction and forcibly come in contact with his bare skin. _Smack_. “One.”

Kit winced in pain, clenching his teeth.

Sister Jude wound her hand back again, and flicked it forward onto Kit's sensitive skin. _Smack_. “Two.”

His hands grabbed the front of her desk, gripping them tightly to relieve his pain. His shackles jingled again.

 _Smack_. “Three.”

 _Smack_. “Four.”

 _Smack_. “Five.”

Kit jerked his hips forward into her wooden desk; his eyes were shut tight, and he bit his lip to keep out from crying out in pain.

 _Smack_. “Six.”

 _Smack_. “Seven.”

I flinched with every hard blow she gave him, with that goddamn torture device. My stomach turned and twisted; and I thought I was going to throw up once I realized that I was next. I looked at the hard expression stamped on the nun's face. She had absolutely no mercy for anybody in this institution.

 _Smack_. “Eight.”

 _Smack_. “Nine.”

 _Smack_. “Ten.”

I heard a quiet noise come from Kit's chest; a mixture between a grunt and an outward cry of pain. My eyes traveled down to his rear end – and I almost gasped out loud at the red, angry welts appearing on his skin. The poor kid, his entire butt was as red as a tomato.

 _Smack_. “Eleven.”

 _Smack_. “Twelve.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kit mumbled, taking his hands off of the front of the desk and placing them on the top instead. He buried his face in his sleeves, trying to remain quiet. I wanted so badly to rip the cane out of Sister Jude's grip and beat her senseless.

 _Smack_. “Thirteen.”

 _Smack_. “Fourteen.”

 _Smack_. “Fifteen.”

The nun placed the cane on top of her desk. Kit still had his face covered; he didn't even bother to stand back up. Sister Jude sighed with a smile.

“I'm sure that will teach you not to disobey any of our staff here,” she chuckled. She then turned to me. “Ah, Miss Davis, I had almost forgotten about you.”

I ignored her comment and stared at Kit, still bent over and shaking with pain. He lifted his head from the inside of his elbow and drew in a breath, wincing again. He looked back at me, sitting in the little office chair, and he shook his head. “Sister,” he said, his eye contact never breaking from mine.

Sister Jude raised her eyebrows. “Hmm?”

Kit cleared his throat and cringed again. “Don't you do that to Audrey. S-She didn't do nothin' wrong.”

The nun smiled. “That's not gonna work this time, Mr. Walker,” she laughed devilishly; and she looked me right in the eyes with a wink. “But it's the thought that counts, right?”

I glared at her. I shot daggers with my eyes; oh, how badly I wanted to run at her and shove a fucking cane down her throat, one with barbed wire at the end. She picked up the cane she used to whip Kit, and she walked over to the cabinet to hang it back up and select a different one.

“Lets see,” she mumbled, fingers dancing across the bodies of the wooden canes. She came across a thin one – one with barbed wire.

What, could this bitch read minds, too?

She picked it up out of it's spot and touched one of the spikes. “This will do quite nicely on our little Audrey.”

Kit looked at me and I returned the glance frantically. He stood up from the desk and pulled his pants up as best as he could without writhing in pain from the thick cloth rubbing against his raw welts. “S-Sister, leave her alone!”

“Careful, Mr. Walker, or I'll give you another 15,” Jude threatened. Kit began to walk over; almost ready to swing, but I stood up and touched my hand to his thumping chest.

“Shh,” I said quietly, trying to defuse his anger. “Stop. You're gonna get yourself in more trouble.”

“I don't care! I'll take 100 lashes, but she ain't gonna lay a finger on you,” he said back, his hands gently squeezing my arms. He looked behind me and raised his voice. “Ya hear that, Sister?”

Jude raised her eyebrows at the brave young man. “I suggest you stop, Mr. Walker.”

Suddenly, and thankfully, the door to Sister Jude's office opened. “Sister Jude?” said a man standing at the door. He had a badge and a suitcase. “Detective Karr,” he pointed to his badge, “I'm looking for Audrey Davis?”

“That's me,” I said quickly, turning toward the detective. Kit came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders protectively.

Detective Karr nodded. “Come with me, I have a few questions for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Audrey totally got out of 15 lashes. But poor Kit didn't, of course.
> 
> And now a detective is coming in, looking for Audrey! Uh oh. What's that about?
> 
> Thanks for the reads and the comments. Keep them coming.
> 
> Another chapter will be up soon!


	18. Missing Persons

The door shut behind us with a 'click' as the detective politely guided me into one of Briarcliff's many offices. It was damp and musty, as most of the building was; but it was quite obvious that this specific office had not been used in a long time.

I wanted Kit to come with me. Or Lana, or _somebody_. Even Sister Jude; I just didn't want to be alone with this man that I've never met before. Although something about him seemed gentle, you can't trust anybody in this place. Well, you can't trust any _staff_ , anyway.

“Have a seat, Miss Davis.”

I nodded at the man's gesture. “Thank you,” I said, sitting down on the uncomfortably hard chair. I smiled politely and cleared my throat, forcing myself not to cringe. “But I prefer my maiden name, Holden, if you don't mind.”

The detective nodded his head out of respect. “Of course, Miss Holden.” The man took a seat behind the desk set in the middle of the room and removed his hat – he had blonde hair, neatly combed back, and a strong brow. His eyes were a gentle blue; a nice break from all the dark, black, unnerving eyes in this God forsaken place. His lips were thin but plush, and he had quite a sharp jawline. A very handsome man; but not as handsome as Kit. Not to me, at least.

He shuffled some papers for a moment, grabbing a pen out from his pocket on the inside of his jacket. He smiled at me and cleared his throat. “I'm Detective Karr.” I watched his Adam's apple move up and down for a quick moment. “So, as I mentioned before, I do have a few questions to ask you,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Is that alright?”

I nodded, although my insides were shaking. I wasn't sure what this man wanted from me. “Sure.”

He smiled. “Good.” He drew in a breath and I looked down at my hands for a moment. I nervously picked at a hangnail on my thumb until I heard him speak again. “Now, Audrey... May I call you Audrey?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

The detective smiled again. “Audrey, there has been a report of someone missing. Two people, actually; and we're wondering if you could help us out.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Missing?”

“Yes,” Detective Karr said. “Now, according to your file, you're a married woman, correct?”

I swallowed hard and felt a lump forming in my throat. “I, um,” I nodded my head slightly. “Yes, technically.”

The detective looked at me a bit curiously, but he seemed to brush it off. “And your husband was, uh...” He looked down at one of the papers sitting on the desk. “...Jonathan Davis?”

I didn't respond audibly, but I nodded. My stomach churned.

Detective Karr nodded along with me, before wetting his lips to continue to speak. “Well, you see, we seem to be having a difficult time tracking him down. After he was taken to the hospital due to the bullet wound in his calf, he escaped.”

I nodded at the man. I looked down at my thumb again; I was bleeding from the hangnail.

The detective continued. “Although it was very strange; there was no record of Jonathan Davis in the hospital files,” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “ Or... Anywhere, for that matter.”

I knew. I knew exactly why they couldn't find him, but I played along. “What are you saying?” I asked, my voice shaking from anxiousness.

Detective Karr bowed his head for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts into words. “It was as if he never existed. We searched everything we could possibly get our hands on. There was no social security number, no identification, no birth certificate... Nothing.”

I stayed quiet. Detective Karr was right; he didn't exist at all. It was all some bullshit cover. And that was when I figured out who the _second_ missing person was.

I felt my heart slamming into my rib cage. My palms began to sweat as I continued to dig at the already bleeding hangnail on the right side of my thumb. “Who...” I stuttered, dreading the answer. “Who is the other missing person?”

Detective Karr glanced down at the papers again, scanning a name at the top of the second page. “His name is Oliver Thredson,” he said casually. I almost threw up. “It says here that he was appointed to your case.”

I sat still, fearing that if I moved, the man would see right through me. My nervousness was bouncing off all of the walls in that tiny office, and I absolutely feared that the man could sense it. “Y-yes, Dr. Thredson.”

The detective nodded, never looking up from his papers. “He was your psychiatrist, yes?”

I nodded, and he finally looked up. I tried my best to remain composed. He scanned my face quickly, and returned his gaze to the papers. 

“One of his patients claimed that she had an appointment with him a few weeks ago, and he never showed,” he stated. He licked his lips again. “She tried contacting him, he never answered.”

I cleared my throat. “Maybe he went on vacation”

The detective smirked a bit. “I don't think so. After the woman relentlessly complained, we were called to investigate. We scoped out his house, not a sign of him there for weeks. Yet his car was still parked in his driveway,” he explained. He leaned back in the chair and folded his hands on top of the wooden desk. “Audrey, could you relay to me the last time you saw Oliver Thredson?”

I had to think fast. “I, uh...” I blinked a few times and swallowed, trying to get rid of the bile rising in my throat. “I had an electroshock therapy session with him a month or two ago.”

The detective nodded, clicking his pen and scribbling words down on his hand held notepad. He looked back up at me, pen still in his hand. “Did he say or do anything that indicated something... Unusual, of sorts?”

“No,” I replied, probably a little bit too quickly. I fidgeted a bit. I hope this guy wasn't good at deciphering body language, I was a dead giveaway. “No, he just gave me my treatment. I don't remember much after that, my brain was a bit jumbled from the electricity.”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, jotting down something else into his notes. I studied his face as he concentrated on his writing; he seemed convinced. He looked back up at me and I shifted my stare someplace else. “Can you tell me anything about Dr. Thredson? From what you _do_ remember?”

I froze. “In, uh, what sense, Detective?”

He smiled softly. “His person,” he said, laying his pen down on the table. It rolled a bit until the hook on the cap acted as a stopper. “What was he like? Anything strange about him?”

Oh, I wanted to spill _everything_ about that horrendous man. I wanted so badly to break down and tell this nice detective what that man did to me; how he murdered my family and locked me in here, fried my brain to a crisp, framed me, murdered Kit's wife and the other two lovely ladies. I wanted to tell him that he took Lana into his basement and violated her, hurt her, tried to kill her. I wanted to fall apart and tell him that I knew there was no Johnny Davis; I wanted to tell him that Oliver Thredson used that as an alias and married me under a false name, that's why he never existed. And I wanted to tell him that Kit murdered Thredson in cold blood – jamming surgical scissors through his dark heart, finally setting my soul free. 

But I didn't. I couldn't.

It wasn't the right time, yet.

“He was a nice man,” I said, shrugging. “I, uh, I don't know much about him. But he seemed genuine.”

The detective nodded again, picking up his pen and scribbling. “Anything else?”

I shook my head. “No, sir.”

The man smiled, clicking his pen and placing it in his pocket; along with his notepad. He stood up from the chair and jogged the papers on the table. “Thank you, Audrey. If we get any more information on either of these men, I will contact you.”

I stood up from my chair as well. He extended his hand, and I shook it firmly. “Thank you, Detective Karr.”

The nice man led me out of the dark, musty room and tipped his hat before walking down toward the lobby. After I was sure he was gone, I leaned up against the brick wall; and I let out a gigantic sigh. “Holy shit,” I mumbled to myself; and I took it upon myself to walk back to my cell.

I assumed that the lockdown had been lifted. The red lights and loud sirens no longer echoed through the dark halls of the asylum; it was back to the eerie quiet and the occasional flashlight of an orderly.

Thankfully, none of them stopped me as I strolled slowly through the dark corridors. I used to be so terrified to walk down these halls; I felt watched, followed, unsafe. Eventually I got used to it; it's just another part of my day. It even relaxed me, sometimes – like going for a walk around the block in my old neighborhood. Except, of course, the fresh air was lacking.

I got back to the second floor, almost to my cell; when I heard someone calling my name from behind. I turned around; Kit was jogging toward me in what looked like a hospital gown. 

“Kit!” I said, meeting him half way. He hugged me, gently rubbing my back.

“Hey, I found ya,” he smiled. I pulled out of his hug and looked at his face. He still had a scar from that deep cut on his face, the day that he killed Thredson. I ran my fingers across it; and Kit smiled even wider, his dimples cutting into his cheeks again. “So, what'd that guy want, anyway?”

The smile on my face disappeared. I licked my lips. “Thredson,” I said, brushing a wild lock of hair out of my face. “He's been reported missing. I told the guy I didn't know anything.”

Kit's smile disappeared, too. “Shit,” he mumbled. “Let's hope he doesn't find out what happened.”

I nodded, brushing Kit's hair off his forehead. “We gotta get that confession tape out,” I said quickly and quietly. “Where'd Lana put it?”

Kit's eyebrows furrowed, and he put his hand on my shoulder. “Speaking of which... Someone else is missing, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I was away from home for a little while. But here's a brand new chapter!
> 
> So Audrey's been questioned. Kit's butt is still raw, poor thing. Andddd a certain someone hasn't come back from their little escape.
> 
> And at Briarcliff, there are a _lot_ of places she could be.
> 
> I will try to update again later tonight to make up for the lack of updates recently. Thank you so much for reading! And I'd like to thank a few anonymous users that sent me good vibes on Tumblr! Whoever you are, you're the best!


	19. My Kind Of Man

Kit walked me the rest of the way back to my cell. Once he led me in, he shut the door tightly so our conversation wouldn't be overheard. God knows what the authorities would do if they heard that a patient had gone missing, if they haven't already.

“What do you mean she's _missing_?” I asked, taking a seat on my bed. Kit sighed and looked through the barred window, placing a hand on the bars themselves.

“I mean exactly what I said,” he replied, turning to face me. “No one's seen 'er since she slipped past Carl.”

I narrowed my eyes in thought. “You mean...”

Kit shrugged. “I looked everywhere. While you were in your lil' meeting, I checked. She's not in her cell, the Common Room, the bakery, the Hydrotherapy Room, the Electroshock Therapy Room, nothin'.”

I shook my head and looked out of the small cutout in my door. “D-Did you check Arden's..?”

Kit nodded. “She's nowhere to be found, Audrey.”

I looked at him. He had worry in his eyes; yet at the same time, hope shined through. I matched his expression. “Kit... Do you think she got out?”

He shrugged, letting his hands fall down to his sides. “I dunno, but if she did, I just hope she got past whatever's out there.”

I smirked, and made a gun-shape with my fingers. “She's got it covered, remember?” Kit smiled back at me and nodded.

“Yeah, she don't take no shit, that girl.”

My heart beat a little quicker than usual. I smiled at his sweet Boston accent and stood up from my seat on the bed. I placed a hand on his bicep, giving him a bit of a squeeze. “We'll get out of here, Kit.” He looked at me with a sad smile, leaning his head into mine. I nudged his forehead with my nose. “I promise.”

I heard a chuckle come from his chest, I wasn't sure why. But it made me smile, and that's all that mattered. He placed his hands on the sides of my face and brought it up gently, looking into my eyes with so much soul pouring out of him; and he let out a sweet sigh. “How'd I get so lucky, huh?”

I cocked an eyebrow with a grin. “Whacha mean?”

Kit looked away for a moment, smiling sheepishly. But he soon brought his gaze right back to my eyes, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I mean, you'd think bein' thrown in the nuthouse would be _bad_ luck, right? That's why it's so funny.”

I kept a smile plastered on my face, but I was still confused. “I don't understand.”

Kit laughed a little bit. He never answered me.

Instead, he planted a sweet kiss on my dry lips; and he trailed it down to my jawbone. I closed my eyes, letting myself float in his blissful, tiny kisses, and I understood exactly what he meant; even without words.

He kept kissing my jaw, and eventually his lips made their way to my neck. I shivered with the beautiful feeling of pleasure vibrating through my body; and I felt his hand come in contact with my shoulder, urging me to sit down on the bed.

I lowered myself onto the bed again, and Kit followed my motion; but I felt him gasp against my neck as soon as he sat on the firm mattress.

“Ah!” He grunted, straightening his back, clenching his teeth. I jumped back a little, worried that I had somehow hurt him; but when I saw him lift himself off of the mattress, I realized what was causing his pain.

“Ooh,” I ran a hand through his hair, trying to ease him. “Oh, Kit, I'm sorry.”

He hissed through his teeth and held his breath for a moment, before finally being able to lower himself fully and sit on the bed. “It ain't your fault,” he said, shaking his head. He released the breath he was holding and tensed up a bit. “I swear, I'm gonna cane Sister Jude's ass bloody!” I placed a hand on his shoulder, but he stood up off the bed. The pain in his face vanished; but it was replaced with frustration. “I can't even fuckin' sit down!”

I stood up along with him and ran my fingers across his chest. “I know. Just relax a bit. Tension makes pain worse.”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to relax when I can't fuckin' sit down!”

I raised my eyebrows at his snap towards me. I didn't know that Kit Walker had a temper. He was always so calm. “Woah, hold on, Kit. You have to-”

“Dammit, I can't take it here anymore. All they do is fuckin' mistreat us!”

My heartbeat sped up with nervousness. The tone of his voice continued to change, his level of volume increasing. I tried to reason with him. “I know, Kit, but-”

“God, I'm so-!” He yelled, stopping himself short. He drew his arm back and I gasped as he threw his hand forward with a built up force, punching the concrete wall. I jumped at the awful sound of the contact, and Kit grabbed his fist almost immediately. “ _Fuck!_ Jesus _Christ!_ ”

I grabbed his shoulders gently and tried to ease him down a little bit. “Hey!” I yelled, and he stopped. I gave him a little shake.“Hey.”

He looked at me, and I visibly saw the tension in his body release. He stared at me for a few moments, his breath jagged; he shook, still holding his fist. His eyes welled up a bit. “A-Ah, Jeez, Audrey. I'm.. I'm so sorry-”

I pulled him into me, hugging him tightly; letting him know that his anger didn't offend me. I felt him take in a shaky breath, trying to steady himself – and he finally relaxed.

“It's alright,” I said, holding the back of his head with my hand. I smoothed his hair down, over and over, just like my mother used to do to me whenever I got upset. “I'm angry too, Kit. I know.”

The boy's sudden bout of anger and frustration was fading – instead, it melted into tears. “They took everything,” he sniveled, burrowing his face in my shoulder. “Everything I had is gone.”

I held onto him, resting my head on top of his. “Oh, Kit, I know. I know.”

He hiccuped. “I'm not even a man anymore, Audrey.”

My heart broke for him. He was depressed. He felt worthless, helpless, unable to defend himself or anyone around him. I knew how that felt. 

I held him close and kissed the side of his head, my lips right above his ear.“You're more of a man than anyone I've ever met, Kit Walker.”

He didn't say anything. I just held him there, letting his head rest on my shoulder as I ran my hand over his messy hair. I struggled not to cry along with him; I felt like I wanted to, but he needed someone right now. Someone who was going to tell him that everything was going to be okay.

He pulled himself off of my shoulder, his cheeks stained with tears. Even in sadness, his eyes still sparkled with love and hope; and I smiled into his beautiful face. “I love you, Kit.”

He smiled back, his tears stopping. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I'm so glad you're my girl.”

I smiled so wide at that sentence. I'm his girl. I liked that.

“That's right,” I grinned. “I'm your girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a quick little chapter for you! Double update!
> 
> So Kit's feeling a little down. Rightfully so, being in a mental ward for months on end will probably do that to you. But Audrey's there to help.
> 
> Currently, my account on FanFiction.net is giving me some sort of 503 Error. I'm not exactly sure how to fix it, other than just waiting it out. Once they fix the website, I'll update the 2 new chapters.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	20. Droplets

“Miss Davis?”

I felt myself stir – I was in such a deep sleep.

“M-Miss Davis, you've got to get up.”

My eyelids weighed a ton. I lifted them slowly, blinking away the fog that clouded the image of a young blonde nun standing before me. I stretched my limbs out a bit. “Hmm?”

Sister Mary Eunice smiled a little bit. “You're due for your medicine.”

I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows. She held out a small cup with two little pills resting at the bottom; I had no clue what the drugs were, but they seemed to relax my nerves, anyway. “Thank you,” I mumbled, sitting up against my headboard. I outstretched my hand, taking the paper cup from the nun's delicate fingers, and I tossed the pills back into my throat. I swallowed them hard – I was never good at taking pills dry.

The nun held her hand out for the empty paper cup. I placed it back into her palm, and she smiled. “I'll be back sometime in the evening to give you your other dose.”

The sweet woman turned to leave my cell; but I stopped her. “Wait, Sister.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, peeking out of the barred window. The trees were still red and orange; but every day, they became a bit more barren. The sky was a dark grey; threatening to pour, and I thought I saw a few drops already starting to fall. I returned my gaze to Sister Mary Eunice, who stood at the door to my cell with her hands intertwined in front of her. She nervously played with the edges of the paper cup. “My friend Lana... Is there still no sight of her?”

“Oh,” The nun shrugged. “No, I'm sorry,” she said. She shook her head quickly, her bangs flicking back and forth over her eyes. “They've concluded that she's not on the grounds. They've looked everywhere.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “So... She's not at Briarcliff?”

The nun shook her head again. “We...” She looked baffled, as if I had just thrown a puzzle in front of her, expecting her to solve it. “...She's nowhere to be found. Nobody's caught sight of her since the security system went haywire,” she raised her eyebrows. “And that was over a week ago.”

I felt my heart drop a bit. I glanced out the window again, peering into the deep woods on the other side. “You don't suppose she's...” I trailed off, picturing the horrors that lurked out there; yet whatever those horrors were, they still seemed more docile than half of the beings in this building. “... Dead, do you, Sister?”

The nun raised her eyebrows and shook her head frantically again, nervous to answer my question. “I-I don't know, Miss Davis. I'm... I have to go,” she turned around and opened my cell door. “I'll be back later to give you the rest of your dose.”

And with that, the door shut loudly. I heard the 'click' of the lock; and I figured that it was still too early to leave my cell. I wanted to go into the Common Room and talk to Kit – see if he's heard any news on Lana. I doubted it, though; if I hadn't, than he hadn't, either. 

I sat on my bed and waited for sunlight to flood the room with every minute that passed; but soon enough, I heard a low rumble in the distance. It began to rain; tiny droplets blurring my vision through the small window, and I started to feel the room closing in. It was still so early in the morning – about 6:30, maybe, and the Common Room didn't open until around 8. The bakery opened at 7, but I didn't have a shift any time soon. 

I watched as the tiny droplets formed into larger drops. They became more concentrated; gathering together as the rain increased, and soon the rain fell over the entire building.

I wanted to walk outside – to expose myself to the heavy drops of water, to feel them rolling over my skin, soaking my clothes, dampening my hair. I wanted to take a deep breath and smell the rain as it bounced off the pavement, creating small pools of water in the dips; and thin little rivers, flowing down the sidewalk as the wetness washed away all of yesterdays dirt, making room for a beautiful new day full of fresh soil and clean streets.

I wanted to start over. I wanted the rain to wash away my past, my sorrows; to clear a path for tomorrow.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the quiet thunder. It sounded so sweet, so serene; making peace with the clouds and the rain.

I used to be so afraid. And now, I wasn't. 

What was there to be afraid of? Pain? Abandonment? Death? All three at the same time? Sure, its scary. It's terrifying. But I wasn't afraid; I embraced it, I accepted it. I expected it. 

Fear was something that controlled me. It took over my body like a demon; paralyzed me, twisted my words, clouded my vision. I let fear overtake my life. Which is completely understandable when you're locked up and thrown away; but at the same time, fear is what they prey on. Fear is how they discipline. Fear is depended on, fear is their only weapon against you. And if you are without fear, nothing can hurt you.

“Psst, hey.”

My thoughts were scattered to the winds; I jumped out of my skin for a moment and turned my head to face my door. I saw a familiar pair of eyes peeking through the small cut-out, and I smiled. 

“Hey,” I answered, stepping onto the floor and walking towards the heavy metal slab blocking me from the corridor. I saw his eyes squint a bit, his cheeks pushing his lids up, and I knew he was smiling, too. 

“How'd ya sleep?”

“Good.”

Smoke began to float into my cell, looming around my head, and I breathed in the scent of cigarettes as Kit slipped one through the caged hole. “They've been hard to come around. Got a pack this mornin' from Thredson's old desk,” I grabbed it immediately, placing the filter in between my lips as Kit lit the end from the other side of the door. He smiled again. “Never really occurred to me before today, I guess.”

I inhaled the thick smoke, letting my lungs fill up to their maximum capacity. The taste reminded me of home; sitting outside on the porch in the late evening, enjoying a cigarette as the fireflies began to light up the yard.

I closed my eyes and exhaled. A heavy haze momentarily fogged my vision of the boy in front of me; but with a quick wave of my hand, I was able to see him again. A smile made it's way onto my face. “Thanks, Kit. I've been dying for one.”

“Me too,” he said, taking another drag. He held it there for a few moments before letting it slip out of the corner of his mouth, blowing it away from my direction.

“How'd you get out of your cell so early?” I asked, holding my lit cigarette loosely between my parted fingers. Kit smirked and nodded toward the other side of the hall.

“Kitchen duty. Sister Jude had me open up the bakery this morning,” he said. He looked around cautiously, making sure she wasn't behind him. “Told her I had to take a leak.”

I chuckled, bringing my cigarette back up to my lips. “Ah, I see.”

“Yeah. There's some freaky new gal in the kitchen today, I ain't never seen her before.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hm,” Kit nodded. He took another quick hit and blew it out. “She don't talk.”

I coughed quietly for a moment. The smoke stung my chest; I guess it was just because I haven't had a smoke in a while. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. She don't talk,” Kit chuckled. “I welcomed her, tried to be nice, and she just stared at me like I had two heads or somethin'. Jude says she don't like bein' friendly.”

I raised my eyebrows in confusion at first, but soon lowered them. “Well, can't say I blame her.”

Suddenly, I heard a sound on the other side of the hall. Kit's eyes widened; and he quickly died out his cigarette.

“Shit. I gotta go. Gimme your cigarette, they can't catch you with that in here,” he whispered. I slid him my cigarette through the small holes. He grabbed it and died it out on the brick wall, sliding it into his pocket along with his own. He smiled at me; winking handsomely before he slipped back into the darkness. 

I backed away from the door and sat on the edge of my bed. I wished he could stay.

I listened to the sound of the heavy doors opening and closing on the other side of the corridor. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, sending chills up my spine; I wondered who it was, casually strolling down the dark stretch of cells.

The footsteps got closer, and my heart rate increased. I felt the cell closing in again as I stared out of that tiny cutout; the walls getting tighter and tighter around me. It wasn't a familiar footstep – it was foreign, unknown, different than the nun's shoes and the orderly's shoes. It was someone else.

And as the footsteps approached my cell, they stopped. I held my breath and listened for any other sounds; and to my dreaded surprise, I heard the tumbling of the locks becoming unhinged within my door. I froze; waiting to see who would be holding the key on the other side of the door.

It felt like 10 minutes had passed before the door had creaked open, leaving a silhouette of a man standing at my door frame. My eyes focused in on the dimly-lit figure standing before me; but once they did, my eyes went wide with a mixture of confusion and relief.

“Miss Holden?”

I nodded, gathering my breath to speak. “Detective Karr. Yes.”

He held a brown clipboard in his hand; and he extended it out to me.

“I need you to sign this.”

I scanned it over quickly, my eyes still in a blur. “W-What is this?”

A smile broke out on the man's face. “It's your release form, Audrey. You're going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late night/early morning update! And a _very_ important one, at that!
> 
> Audrey's finally got some good news!
> 
> Don't worry, I've still got a few more chapters up my sleeve. Not too many though... The story's gotta end sometime.
> 
> Thank you for the reads. Another chapter coming your way shortly!


	21. We Were Free

I could have sworn that every vital organ in my body stopped working for a good 10 seconds. Was this actually happening? I must be hallucinating from those pills that Sister Mary Eunice gave me earlier.

I stared at the detective for a moment; my eyes wide with bewilderment. “I'm... I'm what?”

He chuckled, nudging my hand with the clipboard. “Going home,” he repeated, urging me to grab the item in his hand. “You're leaving Briarcliff.”

I slowly took the clipboard out of his hand, scanning it over a second time. It was actually legitimate; signed by Sister Jude and Monsignor Timothy Howard themselves. I couldn't grip this wonderful news – I wanted to scream with happiness. But I didn't quite understand why I was being released. “How? W-What made them-”

“Come with me,” Detective Karr said with a smile. He gently took a hold of my hand and helped me off of my bed; I stood up and felt my head spin a little bit. I was a bit lightheaded – probably a mixture of things. I held on to that clipboard as he led me out of that tiny room, possibly for the last time, and the door clicked shut behind us as we entered the dark hallway. I stared at the greenish brick walls that surrounded me as we walked through the corridor; making our way to Sister Jude's office.

I blinked rapidly, still wondering if I was in a dream, or some kind of hallucination. “Detective Karr, may I ask you a question?”

He chuckled without so much as a glance back at me, as he continued to lead me down the hall. “Sure. Although I have to say, normally _I_ ask the questions.”

I smiled, even though he wasn't looking at me. “This might sound crazy.”

He chuckled again. “Well, you _are_ a mental patient.”

I returned his slight laugh; I looked down at my feet as I watched their pace quicken a bit, in order to keep up with the long-legged man in front of me. “Is this for real? I mean, it's not some kind of ploy, is it?”

“I wouldn't have any doubts, Audrey,” he said, reassuringly. We rounded the corner, jogging up the spiral staircase to reach Sister Jude's office on the 3rd floor. Once we reached the top, he looked back at me and smiled gently. “There's someone up here that might convince you a bit better than I can.”

I cocked an eyebrow at his little hint. I heard thunder rolling in the distance; I had almost forgotten about the heavy rain outside. The thought quickly left my brain as we approached the nun's room, and Detective Karr placed a hand on the knob. The door slowly swung open, and I noticed a woman in an orange dress, facing Sister Jude's desk. One she heard the door shut, she turned around toward us and smiled – I didn't recognize her at first; but once I did, I almost fell to my knees.

“ _Lana?_ ”

“I told you I could handle it.”

The clipboard in my hand fell to the floor with a harsh smack, and I ran over to Lana with open arms. I embraced her, taking in her beautiful new appearance. “Lana, you-! You got out! You look so beautiful,” I blubbered, unable to control my words. “I'm so... I thought you were-”

“Dead?” She finished for me with a laugh, gently pulling out of my tight hug. “I didn't come this far in this hell hole just to die in the woods. I told you I'd get you out, didn't I?”

I pulled away with a laugh. “How did you-? What-? Where-?”

“After Sister Jude took you and Kit to her office, I ran into the death chute; and I took a little something with me,” she said with a smirk, raising her eyebrows. “I relayed it to the police once I fought my way out of those deep woods; and Detective Karr, here,” she nodded toward the smiling blonde-haired man, “He was able to shut his case.”

In my state of shock, I had a hard time comprehending what exactly was going on. “I... I don't understand,” I stuttered. Lana grabbed my shoulders and smiled into my face.

“I gave them the recording,” she said, laughing. “The tape with Thredson's confession. You're innocent, Audrey. And now they know. You're leaving this place.”

Elation took over my body, making me numb from head to toe. I smiled magnificently, transferring my glances between Lana and the detective. “Oh, this is wonderful,” I beamed, and the detective picked up the clipboard lying at his feet. He placed it into my hand after taking a pen out from his coat pocket, handing that to me as well.

“All you have to do is sign here,” he explained, pointing to a blank line on the printed paper. “Your clothes are waiting for you in the lobby, you can pick them up and change before you leave.”

I nodded quickly and held the pen next to the paper, readying myself to sign my name on the line. But something sparked in my mind; and I immediately stopped what I was doing. I couldn't leave. Not without taking something with me.

I looked up from the paper, making eye contact with Lana as I shook my head quickly. “Wait. What about...”

“Who, me?”

I turned around quickly, the familiar voice echoing through my ears. There he was, standing next to Sister Jude in the doorway; wearing a blue button-down and cotton pants, his hands shoved deep down in his pockets, and a goofy smile spread across his dimpled cheeks. “Almost thought you were gonna run off an' leave me here, pretty lady.”

A smile broke out on my face as I looked back at him. I wanted to run into his arms, feel his warmth against me and kiss him in front of everyone in that room, but I decided to keep my thoughts in my head where they belonged; especially in front of Sister Jude. Kit looked at Lana and smiled brightly, walking over to her and giving her the same hug I gave her earlier.

“I knew you'd make it,” Kit mumbled into her hair, and I smiled. Lana gave him a friendly peck on the cheek.

“I wasn't gonna let you two rot in here.”

My eyes widened again. “Y-You mean-?”

Sister Jude stepped into the room, with a defeated smile on her face. “Yes, you both are being released. I'm sure the nice detective here has told you, your clothes are in the lobby,” she said, pointing toward the door. “As long as you both sign your release forms, Briarcliff will be behind you. Just as long as you don't get yourselves into any trouble,” she said playfully; and for the first time in the entirety of my stay, Sister Jude's smile was genuine.

Kit, Lana and I looked at each other with joyful glances as I picked up the clipboard resting on the wooden desk. Kit was handed his release form and we both smiled at each other before dragging our pens across the blank line at the bottom of our papers. Joy and relief surged through my veins; and the ice that once froze them over was now melting from the warmth of my new found happiness.

Kit and I relayed our papers over to Sister Jude; and she dismissed us with a simple wave of her hand. “You three be careful out there.”

And with a nod from all three of our heads, the detective led us out of that dreary office for the very last time. I felt the walls opening up, letting me go; I was no longer an inmate at Briarcliff Manor. I felt Kit reach over and take my hand into his, caressing it softly with his thumb; and I looked up at him with a fresh smile painted on my face – one that I haven't felt in ages.

It wasn't long before the 4 of us reached the lobby, and the detective fetched our clothes for us. He handed Kit his white t-shirt and black jeans; and me, my pale yellow dress. My emotions jumbled once I held it; I felt free, gladly returning to my old, peaceful life – but I also felt reminiscent of the past, realizing that my life before this cacophony of terrible events was completely different than what was ahead of me.

But it didn't matter. What mattered was that I was finally free of this depressing, gloomy place; and as Detective Karr tipped his hat with a smile and walked out of Briarcliff Manor, I looked at my two closest friends with a contagious grin.

We were together. 

We were innocent.

We were free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the three of them getting what they deserved all along! 
> 
> It's so refreshing to write a chapter with so much happiness!
> 
> Don't worry, still a bit more to come. Maybe two or three more chapters.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading. You all rock my AHS socks.


	22. Memory Lane

My throat began to close up as tears blurred my vision. My heart pounded, slammed, _exploded_ from my rib cage as my shaking hands held my light jacket closed against the heavy wind on the cold October morning. I stood in one spot, on the hard pavement, staring at the giant obstacle in front of me.

“I-I can't do it, Kit.”

I felt his hands glide over my shoulders, rubbing them firmly; trying to relax me and warm me at the same time. “I'm right here, okay?” His grip was protective, reassuring, and I felt a little better. “I'm right next to you.”

I sucked in a breath; the crisp air burned my lungs for a moment. I nodded at Kit as I exhaled my deep breath, feeling my anxiety decrease a little bit – although it was still sky high. I've endured countless remorseless acts at Briarcliff. Torturous, terrifying, painful acts that I would have rather died than to ever experience again in my life. But I endured them, and I endured them well; gaining the strength and the motivation to leave that horrible place.

But this; this was my worst fear. The thing I had dreaded the most. I never wanted to experience it again – the pain, the heartbreak, the death... All that blood.

A thousand sessions of electroshock therapy could not even begin to compare to the horrific pain and fear that I felt standing right in front of this house.

I refused to look at the boy standing next to me; I would have just fell into his arms and begged him to take me somewhere else. I knew I had to face this in order to truly leave Briarcliff behind me, and start a brand new life.

I held back tears; they would only make it worse. I began to walk, and Kit followed; only the sounds of the brittle twigs breaking beneath our heavy footsteps broke the eerie silence. I approached the front door and stopped on the wooden porch, gathering myself for a moment before I entered the house – for the first time since I came home from work on August 8th, 1964.

Kit noticed my apprehension and kissed me lightly on the top of my head. “I promise, Audrey, it's gonna be okay.”

“I really can't do this,” I said, my voice wavering. My knees shook, my head ached. I just wanted to leave. “I don't want to see...” I rubbed my eyes, picturing the gore that coated the bedroom. “It's all still there, Kit.”

He pulled me closer to him; and his warmth calmed me instantly, although I still trembled. He cleared his throat, studying the house with his dark brown eyes. “I'm right here. Right next to you. You can do this.”

I stayed there for a minute, my face buried in his chest; but I soon stood straight again. I knew what had to be done. I had to face this – I had to. 

I raised a shaking hand and gently placed it on the knob. I swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat, and my shallow breaths echoed through my ears as I turned the knob to the right.

I almost expected it to be locked – I always made sure the door was locked any time I left the house. It was strange; I hadn't been here in months and I still had that initial instinct. But to my displeasure, the door was unlocked, allowing me access to the murderous walls inside of my old abode.

I pushed the door open, hesitantly; and I felt as though I would see Oliver Thredson himself standing menacingly on the other side, holding a bloody knife in his hand. 

But I didn't.

It looked exactly the same as I had left it.

I took a step in, and Kit matched my footsteps. We left the door open behind us so that I wouldn't feel closed in; but I felt that way anyway. I inhaled a shaky breath as Kit took hold of my shoulders again, rubbing them gently.

I looked around the house. My keys were still in the pale yellow bowl next to the door. The dishes were still piled up over in the kitchen sink. I looked to my right – there on the coffee table sat the same blue baby bottle that I had noticed the night I came home. In the same exact spot, with the same exact milk in it. Curdled, of course.

I felt nauseous. “Oh, God,” I whispered, picturing my beautiful boy. Kit matched his gaze to mine, directing it at the tiny bottle sitting on the coffee table; and he knitted his brow in sadness for a moment. He took in a breath.

“I know.... I know, Audrey,” he whispered to me as my tears streaked my cheeks. “...Just keep going, doll.”

I nodded, shutting my eyes and turning my head from the only remnants of my son. I walked further into the house, and Kit of course followed; and I turned again, seeing three pairs of shoes sitting next to the door. My heart broke all over again as I tried to contain my agony.

Kit watched me fall apart, laying my head down into my quaking hands, hiding my face from the horrors of what used to be my house. He immediately wrapped his arms around me and held me close to his chest; I sobbed into him, picturing the sight that I witnessed just two rooms down, and I broke. “My sisters,” I cried, “Kit, my sisters...”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, smoothing down my hair. He held me tight, rocking me back and forth for a moment, easing my sorrow. “M-Maybe we should get you outta here, Audrey. Don't worry about your stuff. I'll call up Lana in a little bit, maybe you can borrow some of her-”

“No,” I said, wiping my tears with the side of my hand. I took a deep breath and controlled myself, pulling out of Kit's grip and standing on my own. I finally looked at him and shook my head. “No, I'm okay.”

Kit cocked an eyebrow, placing his hands on my arms. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, sniffling. “Yeah. I just... I'm fine.”

Kit nodded slowly, cautiously, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. He wiped some more of my tears and sighed. “Alright, babe.”

I couldn't just leave. I came here to do something, and I intended on getting it done. As much as I wanted to just start all over – a brand new life, with nothing to remind me of the gruesome past – I couldn't do that just yet. I wished I could just ignore this part of my life, to pretend like it never happened. I knew that one day, this would all be behind me; but until that day comes, I had to embrace what was left of my old life. I had to take my clothes, whatever money that I had stored away, and the few good memories that I had left; and I had to create something new. Something that made me happy, and something to help me let go.

I blinked a few times, and I relaxed myself. I looked back at Kit and nodded my head, inhaling deeply. “I'm okay now.”

I began to walk down the hallway; illuminated by the sun shining through our ivory curtains, it didn't seem as dreary as it had been the night of the murders. Kit never let go of my shoulders; keeping his tight grip to comfort me, as he, too, searched the house with his eyes. He smiled at the pictures of me hanging on the hallway walls; standing center stage, vibrantly glowing as I held the microphone in my hand.

“Y'know, I never heard you sing,” he said quietly, smirking a bit nervously. I chuckled sadly for a moment, sniffling again.  
“Yeah. I used to love the stage,” I said, trying to avoid looking at the old black and white photograph. “I loved to perform.”

Kit smiled at me for a moment before turning to look back at the photograph. He raised his arms and lifted the frame off the wall; disturbing the dust, and I furrowed my brow.

“What're you doing?” I asked, waving a hand in the air to dissipate the particles floating around in the ray of sunlight. Kit looked at the photograph again and smiled, tucking it under his arm.

“I'm takin' it home with us,” he said. “I wanna hang it in the living room.”

I grabbed it from underneath his arm. “No, Kit,” I snapped, embarrassed that he even saw it. “I... I don't want to keep it. It just reminds me of-”

“Bein' happy?” Kit said, and I stopped talking. He raised his eyebrows, grabbing the picture out of my hands again. He pointed at the smile on my face, and he beamed at me. “Look at that rhythm you got goin' there. The music's just flowin' right though you.”

I looked down at the old picture in his hands. I was so carefree, so powerful... So invigorated. I missed being on stage. He was right, I was so happy.

Kit looked at my forlorn expression. Tears welled up in my eyes again, but I held them back; and Kit immediately felt guilty. He hung the picture back up on the nail jetting out of the wall. “Sorry, Audrey. I just thought you might want it one day.”

I took a good look at the photograph. I really was glowing. I thought about it for a minute. “No, Kit, you're right.”

He cocked an eyebrow again. “Hm?”

“I _do_ want it,” I said, taking the frame back off of the nail. “The music always _did_ flow right through me.”

Kit smiled. “Still does, I'm sure.”

I let myself smile too; thinking that maybe soon, I'd get that vibrant glow back again.

I gave the photograph back to Kit, who tucked it under his arm again. We walked a little further down the hallway, stopping finally at the wooden door at the very end. I knew what I was about to walk into; and I didn't want to.

I stopped in my tracks, and Kit knew immediately. “This your bedroom?” He asked, bending his head down to look into my eyes. I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. I cleared my throat. “I just... I don't wanna see the stains,” I said, facing away from the door. “I don't think I can do this part, Kit.”

Kit bit his lip. He took the picture frame out from under his arm and stared at it for a moment or two; then he handed it to me.

“You just stay here, okay?” he said, grabbing my arms. “You stay right here and look at this. Remember what it was like to be on stage?”

I nodded, realizing what he was doing. “Yeah.”

“Alright. Picture that feeling. Keep lookin' at this photo. Don't take your eyes off it,” He said. “Okay? Promise me?”

I nodded again. Kit kissed me quick before he took his hands off my arms and placed one on the doorknob – which, from what I remember last, was covered in blood.

I heard Kit open the wooden door; and I quickly buried my face in that beautiful picture of me. I stared at it, envisioning the audience in front of me, all of their stares directed toward my sweet voice. Rhythm, soul, just pouring out of my body; radiating _off_ of my body, and I yearned for that feeling again.

I lost all concept of where I was; I was hypnotized by that old picture. I saw it all in color, exactly how it was the day it was taken – my pink polka-dot dress, my light brown hair pinned up in curls, my white high heels and my big blue eyes shining as bright as the sun. I was only about 18 or 19, straight out of high school; and it was my first public performance. My whole family showed up. I remember looking down and seeing my mom, my dad, and my three sisters sitting front row; I was so embarrassed. But I was so happy. That was the first and only performance my mom ever saw – she died from cancer only a few months later. But she always told me that I was talented, and she always told me how proud she was. She told me I was gonna go far, and that she was gonna have the best seats in the house at every show. At the time, I never really understood what she meant; but now that I look back at it, I understand completely.

Kit was right, I loved this picture. It was before I met Johnny. Before my mom had died, before my sisters had died. Before I had my heart broken, before my son was killed, before I was locked away with nothing but my memories left in my head. Before _those_ were jolted out of me, too; and before my entire life crumbled beneath me.

And now, as I waited for Kit to emerge from that horrible room with a suitcase full of my old clothes, I looked at this old photograph – and it inspired me. It reminded me that I could be that happy again. It reminded me that the girl in the picture was still deep down in my heart. It reminded me that the rhythm in my soul isn't gone; and it reminded me that with every 'before', comes an 'after'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Audrey finally revisited a bit of her dark past. And with Kit by her side, it came a little easier.
> 
> We're coming to an end, fellas. Just one more chapter left!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking around and reading. Final chapter coming up soon!


	23. Tomorrow

“Mm, somethin' smells good.”

I smiled wide as I set the pie on the windowsill to cool, hearing the door shut behind him. His keys jingled as he set them on the counter.

“Is that pumpkin pie all for me?”

I laughed aloud, taking off my oven mitts and wiping my hands on my blue apron wrapped around my waist. “In your dreams, handsome.”

I turned to him and he sauntered toward me with dirty hands, stained jeans, and messy hair. “Well, I guess you'll have to fight me for it then, huh?” He said in a low voice, grabbing my waist and pulling me into him for a sweet kiss. He smelled like gasoline, car oil and sweat; a hard working man, and I smiled against his soft, pink lips.

We broke apart as he trailed his hands off of me, swinging them at his sides and biting his lip with a smirk as he walked over to the pie, sitting on the windowsill. “Can I have a bite?”

“Not yet,” I warned him, wagging a finger. “It just came out of the oven. It has to cool off. You'll burn yourself.” I untied my apron and hung it up on the hook by the counter before going to the sink and turning on the faucet. Kit raised his eyebrows, the same shy smirk painted on his dirty face.

“Alright, alright,” he said, waving an arm at me. I smiled at him as I washed my flour-coated hands, and he came up behind me; his hands slid onto my hips, giving them a little squeeze, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His lips grazed my ear, sending chills down my spine. “Guess I'll just have to find somethin' _else_ to eat for dessert.”

I turned the faucet off with a small chuckle, drying my hands on one of the white dish towels I had in the drawer. I turned to him, raising an eyebrow with a smile. “Kit Walker, you're dirty. Your clothes, and your mind.”

He laughed, kissing my cheek and turning to walk into the living room. I followed him after neatly folding the dish towel and setting it on the counter next to the sink. 

“So,” I sighed. “How was work?”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Shitty.” He brought his hand up and rubbed the back of his neck wearily; visibly releasing some of the tension in his face. “Some douchebag brought his car in, sayin' that he needed an oil change. So I changed his oil, jus' like he asked me to, and he gets pissed. Tells me that he didn't need an oil change, he jus' wanted to _add_ oil. I told 'em, sir, you asked for an oil _change_ , that's somethin' completely different. Guy gets pissed, calls me a prick for chargin' him, an' drives off,” Kit explained, frustration obvious in his tone. I sighed angrily, placing my hands on my hips.

“The nerve of some people,” I mumbled. Kit nodded, still frustrated.

“Yeah. I wanted to sock 'em right in the face. Fuckin' guy don't even know what he's talkin' about. Asshole. Y'know, he's lucky I didn't-”

“Hey,” I said softly, cutting him off; and I slid my hands onto his chest. I rubbed his torso for a few moments, and I watched the frustration in his face melt away. He smiled wearily as I brought my lips to his neck, giving him a few tiny kisses. “As long as it's not Briarcliff, right?”

Kit was quiet for a moment or so, and he shut his eyes, giving in to my sweet kisses.“Right.”

I pulled off of him after a little while and smoothed down his messy, greased-up hair. Kit cleared his throat and gave me a flirty look.

“So, you got any plans tonight, doll?” He asked, leaning up against the wall. I raised my eyebrows and laughed at him. 

“What plans would I make?”

Kit smiled and nodded. “That's what I figured you'd say.” He suddenly stood up straight again and walked toward the hall, tapping on his thighs to make a rhythm.

“Wait!” I laughed, jogging slowly after him. “Where are you going?”

He smirked at me, his dimples cutting into his cheeks; just like they always did. “If you'll excuse me, Miss Holden, I'm goin' to take a shower,” he said politely, and I rolled my eyes playfully. “I got a hot date with a pretty lil' lady tonight. Gotta look sharp.”

I widened my eyes and raised my brow in surprise. “A hot date, huh?”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, licking his lips. “Be ready by 8, darlin'.”

He shot me a flirty wink, and disappeared down the hallway of the house. Even after he had gone into the bathroom, I smiled; I wasn't exactly sure what he had up his sleeve, but I was looking forward to it.

A date. A _date_! I hadn't been on a date in a really long time. And it was strange; since Kit and I were released from Briarcliff, we didn't get out of the house much. You would think that we would be taking advantage of our freedom – exploring, adventuring, living life to the fullest – but it was actually the complete opposite.

Kit immediately returned to work. We barely had any money; and Kit was lucky enough to get his job at the gas station back after the entire situation. He was out from 6 am to 6 pm, all seven days a week. At first, being home alone scared me – understandable, Kit said, after being locked up by yourself for such a long time. For the first week or two, I would cry before he left in the morning; he would hold me tight and I would beg him to stay with me. He would calm me down and relax me, telling me that we weren't at Briarcliff anymore, and we were safe. Eventually, his soothing words would relax me; and I realized that there was nothing to be afraid of.

While Kit worked, I stayed at home and recuperated. I tried to ease my mind; to meditate, in a way, and get my body back into it's normal routine. It was difficult to adjust to everything at first – even just the simple act of eating food again, opposed to that ground-up slop that they fed us at Briarcliff. It was horrible at first; nausea, cramps, intestinal issues. I snapped back rather quickly, but Kit on the other hand, he was sick for a week. He trudged through it, still making it to work regardless; but he locked himself in the bathroom at every chance he could get when we first arrived home.

Anyway; I cooked, I cleaned, I shopped for groceries. Nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, I did want to go out and have a life – performing was one of the first things on my 'to do' list. But Kit and I decided it best to take it easy for a little bit. And it was wonderful to be someplace where I felt safe, happy, and loved – it was wonderful to be home.

But, hey! A date didn't sound so bad. Especially considering Kit and I never got the chance to be any type of romantic in that hellhole. The closest thing was our 'hydrotherapy session'; and maybe it's just me, but it wasn't really my idea of a perfect first date.

Not to say I still didn't enjoy it, though.

I blinked a few times to get myself out of my daze, and I quickly walked down to our bedroom to freshen up a bit. I stopped next to the bathroom door on the way, and I heard the shower running – and a different sound, which happened to catch my attention.

“There goes my baaa-byyy!... Movin' along, down the liiine-”

I covered my mouth to stifle the laugh that came to me.

“Wonderin' where, wonderin' where... Wonderin' where, she is bouuund!”

I outwardly giggled to myself, quietly, hoping that he didn't hear me. I didn't want to embarrass him. I continued walking to the bedroom, hearing his voice muffled through the door as I laughed to myself. It was clear that Kit wasn't a singer; but I still though it was pretty damn cute.

I knew exactly what I was going to wear; I didn't even have to think twice. As I shut the bedroom door behind me, I undressed down to my underwear and slid on my favorite pink polka-dot dress. I fixed my hair a bit, as I had already had it pinned up from earlier today; and I applied some light makeup in order to bring out my eyes.

As I slipped on my white heels and backed away from the mirror to get a good look at myself, I paused. I stared at myself in the mirror; me, in my pretty pink polka-dot dress, and I began to smile.

Sure, I didn't look as radiant as I did in that old black and white picture. I didn't look so vibrant, so carefree. I didn't look like I could take on the stage; I didn't look like the Audrey Holden I used to be.

But I didn't mind.

I didn't mind one bit.

Because I'm _not_ the Audrey Holden that I used to be.

I'm stronger. I'm brave. I'm smarter. I know now what I can handle, and I know that I can survive whatever is thrown at me. I'm still young, I still have so much to learn; but I'm different now, and I understand.

I may not glow like I used to. But I will, someday.

I smiled at myself one last time before I turned and walked back out into the hall. I passed by the bathroom again; the shower was off, and Kit's singing was reduced to a quiet hum. I still smiled at his innocent notes as I gathered my purse and a few small things; and soon, I heard the bathroom door open.

Kit walked down the hallway in black slacks and a white button-down dress shirt. His hair was parted on the side and swept back, out of his face; he looked so handsome. And when he saw me, his expression changed – his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped, and I smiled.

“Oh, Audrey...” He said, slowly walking toward me. He took my hands into his and kissed them both, never parting his gaze from mine. “You're so beautiful.”

I smiled at him and stepped into him, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. He smelled like cologne – just a dab, and I closed my eyes as the handsome aroma surrounded me for a moment.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, opening my eyes and pulling away from his clean-shaven face. I looked into his eyes – they were the color of the midnight sky, and they sparkled with love and admiration as he held my hand. 

He led me to our front door and placed a hand on the doorknob as he looked back at me, making sure I had everything. “Ready to go?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Kit turned the knob and opened the door, holding it open for me and shutting it once it was behind us. We walked out onto the front porch, ready to step onto the pavement and be on our way; but Kit suddenly stopped.

“A-Audrey,” he said, grabbing my hand firmly so that I would stop walking. I furrowed a brow at him and turned toward him, looking into his face, which was only illuminated by the dim porch light hanging above us.

“What's wrong, Kit?”

I studied his face. He was smiling; but it was a different kind of smile. His cheeks were pink, his eyes were frantic. He swallowed hard, trying to release his nerves. “Oh, no, n-nothing's wrong. I just... I have to tell you something.”

I felt my heartbeat stop for a good 5 seconds. Kit cleared his throat and turned toward me completely, his hands gently gripping my bare shoulders. His gaze was all over my face, all over my body; studying every curve, line, and bump on me. I felt a bit conscious, but I knew his stare wasn't mocking me.

I raised my eyebrows. “What is it?”

He licked his lips, and he took in a breath. “I, uh. I jus' wanted to say that, you're the most amazing girl I ever met.”

I smiled, feeling myself blush a little bit. “Thank you, Kit.”

He shook his head, frantically. “No, no, I'm not done. Look, y-you've been through so much, an' I just knew that the minute I saw you, we had somethin'. It wasn't even romantic at first, it was just such a close connection. But as I learned who you were and heard your story, I realized that we were..” He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “...Somethin' brought us together, Audrey. An' I'm so glad that I got thrown into that nuthouse, 'cause if I didn't, I woulda never met you.”

The smile on my face grew even wider. It was incredible how this young man could have gone through so much torture, so much loss, so much pain; and yet, he could say that he's _glad_ that he went through it.

But as I thought about it, it didn't seem so crazy.

I guess I was glad, too.

I felt a few droplets of rain hit my skin. It was drizzling, but Kit kept going. “An' Audrey, I promise that you'll get your voice back. I promise you'll be up on that stage again, singin' your beautiful little heart out, vibrating with energy and music – It'll all come back. An' I wanna be there, I wanna help you,” he paused, his eyes becoming glassy. “I-I wanna wake up next to you every morning an' kiss you goodnight every evening. I wanna come home from work an' see your beautiful face, and I.. I wanna do it for the rest of my life.”

I watched Kit as his eyes began to well up with tears. My heart began to race – I knew what was happening now.

Kit grabbed both of my hands; he held them tight, his palms sweaty and his nerves trembling. He knelt down on one knee, and I shut my eyes for a moment, reopening them to the feeling of tears stinging the back of my eyes.

“Audrey, will you marry me?”

Happiness surged through my veins. My heart shouted with joy. I felt whole again.

“Of course I'll marry you, Kit.”

He stood from his position, taking my face into his hands and pressing his soft, beautiful lips against mine; and everything that was once wrong in my life was suddenly right. Every heartbreak, every teardrop, every devastation – I knew I would move on, I knew I would let it go. I knew I would truly be happy again.

Suddenly, I felt heavy raindrops bouncing off of my bare skin. It started slow, but it increased quickly; and before you know it, it was pouring rain.

Neither Kit or I moved our spot on that porch. As the rain intensified, he pulled away from my lips and smiled brightly, his hair now a wet mop hanging over his forehead.

“I love you, Audrey.”

“I love you too, Kit.”

I felt the heavy drops of water; I felt them rolling over my skin, soaking my clothes, dampening my hair. Kit embraced me as I took a deep breath; I smelled the rain as it bounced off the pavement, creating small pools of water in the dips; and thin little rivers, flowing down the sidewalk as the wetness washed away all of yesterdays dirt, making room for a beautiful new day full of fresh soil and clean streets.

I was starting over. The rain was washing away my past, my sorrows, my old life.

And finally, for the first time:

I saw a path clearing for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap, everybody. My first chapter story has finally come to an end.
> 
> I want to thank every single one of you for sticking around until the very last chapter. I want to thank you for the kudos, the comments, the messages on Tumblr, and the views themselves.
> 
> I am so happy that you all enjoyed reading. This was such an interesting story to write. I will be back with another one, soon!
> 
> \- _frankenkylee_


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